


World Curled Dark

by gwendolynflight, scribblemoose



Category: Weiß Kreuz
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2003-03-03
Updated: 2003-03-03
Packaged: 2017-10-08 22:18:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 38,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/80069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gwendolynflight/pseuds/gwendolynflight, https://archiveofourown.org/users/scribblemoose/pseuds/scribblemoose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>WIP, currently on hiatus.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

### Prologue

The world curled dark.

He coughed, weakly, spattering the white sheets crimson. Hands shifted, on his back and under his belly, broad-palmed, long-fingered, somehow familiar hands. He heaved again, feeling the groan through his ribs. Fire limned Shion's gift.

A sob shook him then.

“Shh, Aya, shh . . .” He was aware of Yohji's voice, dim beyond throbbing red, the screaming of sensitized neurons complaining of a pulse. Another cough shattered him, and a gobbet of deep tissue splattered the side of the basin.

“Oh, God.” Yohji's voice. “Oh, God, we've got to get you to a hospital. Omi!” Yelling now.

No.

No.

“No,” he whispered. It hurt.

“Yohji-kun, what is it?” Omi's voice, high, worried. “Is it Aya-kun?!”

“Look at this.” One hand left his back. The other still supported his curled-over form. “Look at it!”

“Oh, Aya . . .” Omi moaned.

"Get Ken." Yohji sounded as though he’d been shouting, or smoking, his voice rough. "I'll need help to carry him."

"Yohji?"

"If we don't get him to a hospital he's not going to make it!"

Was Yohji crying?

"No," he said again, perhaps a bit louder this time. His arm, folded beneath his broken ribs, pushed weakly at the filthy sheets. His blood was everywhere. "No!"

"Aya, be quiet." Yohji, his voice harsh, angry. Aya was panting. Stars pulsed behind his eyes. Omi was gone.

"No hospital," he rasped. "No . . ."

"Shut up!" Yohji shouted. "You're dying, Aya." He stopped on a breath, like he'd been punched quite suddenly in the diaphragm. "You're dying," he whispered, his free hand coming up to stroke Aya's crimson hair back from his pale, sweating face.

"I'm fine," Aya said weakly, fingers still scrabbling at the sheets. He would rise in a moment. He would.

"You're not fine, Aya." Yohji was sobbing openly now, and Aya stilled, hearing him. "We should never have brought you here. We all need treatment or . . ."

"You're hurt?" His voice was barely audible. He had forgotten. The world pulsed black.

"Aya!" Ken's voice. Omi scrambled in behind him, and suddenly he was back on the bed, unsupported, as Yohji and Ken attempted to rig a stretcher.

"Yohji?" he whispered, but no one heard. Omi ran out of the room again. At least one of them was unharmed. And finally he let it all fade away.

### Chapter 1

It was nearing dawn. The sky was purest lavender to the west, and the full moon rode silver in an otherwise lonely heaven. Snow powdered the line of roofs and had drifted into the corners of the fire escape, limning the railings and steps. Ran shifted in his curled position on his fire escape landing; he'd lost the urge to shiver long ago. His breath misted, and a playful wind fluttered his crimson hair and the tangle of leaflets in the alley below.

The moon sank another degree. The sun would rise soon, and soon Omi would venture into his room with a tray of invalid's food and a pot of tea, both of which would go untouched. And soon Omi and Aya-chan would leave for school, as though everything were perfectly normal, perfectly sane.

It would stay that way. It had to.

He curled in a bit tighter, hugging his knees to his chest though his wounds protested the move, his ribs twinging and his belly singing fire. It was all the same. It was just like before.

His head drooped, and he rested his temple on his knees, watching light creep over the city out of the corner of one eye. The fire escape railings filled his vision, striping the lavender sky in wrought iron. This was not despair, welling within his breast, crying to his wounded heart.

"You should tell her."

"Yohji," he acknowledged flatly, not deigning to show his startlement as the man climbed with giraffe's grace through his window, all long limbs and doe's eyes.

"She already suspects, Aya, if she--"

"It's Ran," he said. As if it mattered. Yohji paused, sighing as he carefully lowered himself to sit beside him.

"Sorry," he said, once he had brushed a spot clear in the dry frost and settled into place. "I know that, I know what it means to you;" and cut a glance to Ran's too-pale face. "I just forget sometimes."

"Hn," Ran grunted, and then catching sight of Yohji's pleading green eyes, added, "Don't worry about it."

The lavender west melted to grey. The first rays of the morning sun shafted the waking earth in glimmering gold. A car purred down a nearby street, then another, and a sparrow began to scold some trespass.

"She means everything to you," Yohji said, staring carefully into the growing light. His voice was sad. "I can understand that. But, Ran, you can't hide this forever, she's a bright girl, she'll--"

"Hate me forever," Ran growled. "You don't understand, Yohji, you can't. She is innocent. I don't deserve her love." He looked down then, violet eyes bleak. "I shouldn't deserve her love. I don't deserve to be loved by anyone."

"It's a bit late for that," Yohji said dryly.

"What?!" Ran met his gaze again, violet eyes blazing with sudden anger.

Yohji rolled his eyes, fingers moving instinctively to his cigarettes. Ran growled, and Yohji let the nicotine craving lie.

"I'm only saying that you are loved, in spite of... No, that's not it. We don't love you in spite of your actions, but because of them." Yohji pierced him with his most intent gaze. "You are not just a murderer, Fujimiya Ran. You always had your purpose, and your faith: Aya. I do understand, I do. You would do anything for her, and that kind of love..." Yohji looked away. "Don't be ashamed of that, Ran. Never be ashamed of it."

Ran didn't answer; he stared for a moment more at Yohji's closed profile, then lowered his head again to his knees. Yohji's breath plumed in the morning air, but he too ignored the cold.

"You're smoking again," Ran growled, glaring out across their dismal view.

"Yep," Yohji agreed peaceably, settling his long-limbed body next to Ran's, poking his legs through the balcony railing to swing his heels over the street. "At least I came outside this time."

"Hn." Ran returned flatly.

"Are you alright, Ran-kun?" Yohji asked quietly, carefully staring into the dawn-washed sky. "You should be in bed," he continued, flicking his cigarette to tumble gracelessly to the alley floor.

"I'm fine," Ran said, voice grating with finality. The hospital had told him so, after all. As he'd pointed out repeatedly to Yohji, and Omi, and Aya-chan when they fussed around him. He just needed peace. Just peace.

"Aya-chan..."

"Shut up!" Ran's harsh words caused Yohji to flinch back, but at least he'd stopped talking. "Don't say another word, Yohji."

"Oh, fine," said Yohji.

"Yohji," Ran growled in warning.

"You should be in bed," Yohji repeated, recklessly.

"Fucking leave it!" Ran finally turned his gaze on the other man, violet eyes burning. Anger boiled up his throat like acid. "I don't need anything, I don't want anything, just go inside and leave me alone!"

His words wounded Yohji. That had been his intent. Green eyes, injured and pleading, met his glare.

Yohji smiled.

"Told you that'd never happen, Ran-kun," he said, emphasizing the 'kun', peaceably returning his gaze to the sprinkling of stars that had emerged. "You're stuck with me, whether you like it or not."

"Then I'll leave," Ran snarled, grasping the rail to haul himself to his feet.

He pulled.

His stitches pulled back.

"Aya!"

Yohji's voice. He opened his eyes into an immediate glare, knowing exactly what he would find.

Indeed, Yohji leaned over his prone form, green eyes anxious, hands fluttering. Ran grunted.

"I'm fine," he said firmly, waving Yohji aside so that he could lever himself back into a sitting position. Perhaps a slower approach...

"It won't matter to her, you know."

"You can't know that," Ran said, his voice faltering as he settled into place.

Yohji put his face in his hands, and ran them back through his hair. "Why does it matter so much to you?"

Ran didn't answer. The wind swirled a brief fall of snow from the roof.

"Tch. Fine," he said. He sounded weary.

"Because," Ran said after a moment.

"Yes?" Yohji prompted gently.

"Because it's not just that." His hands clenched, and he stared at them as though fascinated. "I have... other secrets, other lies."

"Ah," Yohji said, mostly to buy time. "And you can't tell her these other secrets, either?"

"No!" Ran said, suddenly panicked. "She can't know! Ever!"

"Okay, okay!" Yohji said, putting up his hands in the universal sign for surrender. "She won't know. Why?"

"Why?" Ran repeated, with a blank look.

"Why won't she know? Why can't you tell her?"

"Because I... Because I don't know," Ran said, glancing away. "I'm not... I don't know."

"Ran..." Yohji shuffled a bit closer, green eyes sad. "What is it?" he asked, voice entirely gentle.

"I..." Ran wouldn't look up. He was shaking now, though not from the cold.

"C'mon, let's get you inside," Yohji said after a pause. "You shouldn't be out here at all, Omi'll have your head..."

"No," Ran whispered.

"Please, come inside," Yohji asked, tentatively reaching to touch Ran's arm; his fingertips brushed cloth. Ran flinched.

"I... I need to stay out here, Yohji," Ran said firmly. His mission voice. The hesitation was barely noticeable. "You go inside."

Why couldn't Yohji leave him alone?

"Ran?" Yohji was puzzled now, his brows wrinkling as Ran curled further in on himself, touching his nose to his knees. "What is it? What's going on?"

"Nothing, just... Just go inside, Yohji."

"No! Not until you tell me what's wrong with you." Yohji said forcefully, taking a firmer grip on Ran's elbow. Ran jerked away. Yohji snarled. "What is your fucking problem?!"

"You!" Ran shouted, finally breaking free only to fall onto his side. Cursing how weak he was. Since Schion... He met Yohji's confused stare with blazing violet eyes. "You're the problem, Kudoh!" Yohji blinked at him, hurt and a little stunned. Ran's voice dropped. "Just... go inside, Yohji. Everything's fine when you're inside."

"What are you... I don't under... What is this?" Yohji said slowly, staring at Ran as the smaller man curled himself into the landing's far corner. A small drift of snow had been dislodged, and floated gently down to sparkle crimson hair. Yohji racked his brains to recall any transgression, but could think of nothing. Ran wouldn't look at him. "Is this...?" His eyes narrowed. "Ran... What's that other secret you're keeping from us?" he asked, voice low and a little dangerous.

Ran's eyes squeezed shut. As though he were in pain.

"Don't, Yohji, just don't," he whispered. Tightly, holding himself in.

"Ran," Yohji said, his voice softer, pleading. "You can tell me, Ran, you know you can tell me anything." He edged closer, regaining lost ground. "What is it? Some kind of trouble? You don't want Aya to know..." he said, thinking out loud in soothing tones as he inched toward the swordsman. "Is it some kind of trouble? Debt-collectors finally catch up to you?" he continued, letting a bit of gentle humor creep into his tone.

"No, it's... nothing that will affect the team, okay?" Ran said, so quietly that Yohji had to lean forward in order to make out the words. He grimaced.

"This isn't about the team, Ran. It's about you." And me, apparently, thought Yohji, still unable to think of anything he might have done. He finally secured a position nearer his teammate, creeping in next to him so that their bodies touched in a line from shoulder to hip. Ran hadn't flinched away, but still refused to look up. He looked... ashamed, Yohji thought, staring at the closed profile. "What is it? Something illegal? Look, whatever it is, we'll help you take care of it."

"No!" Ran whispered. "They can't know, the others can't know!" His knees were hugged to his chest, and he hid his face against his thighs.

"Okay, okay," Yohji agreed immediately, bumping Ran a bit with his shoulder, just a gentle reminder. "I won't tell them. You can trust me, Ran. Whatever it is, whatever you need. You won't shock me," he said, voice light. "I can handle the truth. Anything, Ran. Just tell me what it is. Let me help you," he continued, pleading now as Ran just curled in tighter. His stomach would be a bloody mess after this, Yohji was sure of it, and he bit down hard on the impulse to just drag Ran inside.

"Please," Yohji said again, moving imperceptibly closer, and placing tentative fingers on Ran's knee. "Please, whatever you need. What do you need, Ran, just tell me. What do you need?"

Ran shuddered a little, and his head came up from the circle of his arms. His eyes met Yohji's; they were wet with unshed tears. He opened his mouth as if to speak, paused, bit his lip, and leaned toward Yohji just a bit.

"You," he whispered, voice so broken Yohji could barely make out the word. "I need you." And ducked his head, a blush climbing his pale cheeks, and kissed Yohji on the cheek.

Yohji froze. A car hummed past, its radio blaring the latest Gackt. Ran's lips trembled against his skin, petal-soft. After a moment of eternity, Ran drew back.

"Oh God," Yohji heard. Ran drew back into his protective huddle. He was shivering.

"What was that?" Yohji said, distantly. His hand raised numbly to his cheek, which still felt the impression of those lips. Ran was...?

Ran was shaking now, something like tears tearing his voice ragged.

"Just go away, Yohji," he said desperately, hugging himself so tightly his tortured ribs were binding his breath. "Just go inside."

"No," Yohji said firmly, apparently regaining his senses as the moments fled. "Not until you tell me what that was. What did you mean, you need me?"

"I'm sorry," Ran cried, a choked sob, utterly repressed, breaking the words. "I'm sorry, just ignore it, please, please..."

"I..." Yohji stared at him, lips slightly parted, eyes wide. Then he scowled. "No, Ran, I'm not ignoring this, I can't just ignore this. What did you mean?!" And he grabbed Ran's shoulders, as if intending to shake the truth out of him.

Ran flinched.

"Ran?" Yohji asked softly, his fingers loosening their grasp. "Ran, I'm not... I wouldn't... Just tell me what you meant, okay?"

Ran didn't uncurl from his protective huddle. His heart was breaking.

"Ran, I meant my promise," Yohji said, voice even softer. "Whatever you need. Just tell me why you said that."

"I don't know!" Ran cried, voice ragged and muffled by his knees. "I don't know. I just... you make me feel... I don't feel anything, and you make me feel..."

His cheeks were wet now, and Yohji bit his lip to keep from saying anything, to keep himself from ruining this moment as he shuffled Ran into his arms.

"No," Ran whimpered feebly, Yohji's body so warm and good. He nuzzled his cold-numbed nose against soft cotton, horrified at the tears that stung his cheeks. Giving up everything, his whole precious, dangerous secret in one moment of surrender to Yohji's gentle holding.

"It'll be okay," said Yohji, uncertainly. "We'll work something out."

Ran had no idea what that meant. Or if Yohji meant what it was supposed to mean. He tried to think, his mind blurred and weakened by injury and weeks of near-starvation. An idea sprang, garishly clear, to thought: that he was going to die here, right now, weak and pathetic as a kitten curled in Yohji's arms. As if now that he'd given up his secret, there was nothing to live for.

He knew there would be rejection, probably soon, and he didn't think he could bear it.

"How long, Aya?" asked Yohji quietly.

"Ran," sniffed Ran automatically.

"Sorry. How long?"

"It doesn't matter." Ran went to free himself from the trap of Yohji's embrace, but Yohji held him fast.

"I didn't even realise you were-"

"Don't," said Ran.

"And when you say you want me, you mean..."

"It doesn't... I..." Ran fumbled for words, found none. Unable to explain something that he barely knew himself.

"I mean, I always thought maybe one day you and Sakura..."

Ran stiffened, and managed to pull himself away properly this time, huddling against the cold railings.

"I'll take that as a no," said Yohji, scooting up to him again. No escape now, just the railings and Yohji's warm body, unless he could get up and-

"No. No Sakura, not anyone. Never was. Never has been. Anyone. It's best it stays that way. I-"

"Let me help," said Yohji, softly. "Please. Trust me."

Trust?

"It'll be okay," Yohji repeated, more confidently this time. His hand rested on Ran's knee, warmth seeping through his palm to soothe his frozen bones. "Now come on. You should be in bed. You're still weak, you shouldn't--"

"Don't, Yohji." The words felt as if they had been torn from his belly. This... thing, that Yohji was doing, this sympathy and understanding, when Yohji couldn't possibly understand, or care...Ran couldn't bear it. He rested his chin on his knees, not daring to look at Yohji, and watched a brace of doves flutter past their balcony to the roof. Fixing his eyes on the world beyond the railings, trying desperately not to think.

"Omi made soup," Yohji said quietly. His shoulders were slumped. His hand crept to the pocket of his 501s for a cigarette; Ran forced himself not to object as he lit it.

"I'll eat something later."

They both knew that was a lie.

"I've got to open the shop," said Yohji, glancing at his watch. He sounded numb, confused. "You should go back to bed. Please?"

"In a moment." Ran fixed his eyes on the urban tangle of high-rise buildings through the railings, narrow alleyways strung with laundry, and powerlines ribboned like Yohji's garrotte.

He made absolutely sure he didn't watch Yohji leave.

 


	2. Chapter 2

### Chapter 2

The sun curved a shy smile bordering the single window that overlooked Ran's room, and he came slowly to himself bathed in the bright gold-shafting rays of early afternoon. He was lying on his side, one arm curled up with his closed fist near his cheek, the other wrapped around the curve of his ribs in a self-comforting embrace. He was naked. The sheet had slipped somewhere down around his hips, but he didn't bother to retrieve it. The warmth of the winter sun felt good on his pale skin.

Reluctantly he blinked one eye open, catching in flickering frames the verdict from his radio alarm clock. 12:17. PM. The alarm light burned steadily, pale and overpowered by the sun, and a fragmented memory from the early dawn returned in pieces. He closed his eyes again, wondering absently why on earth he'd felt the need to set his alarm for 1PM. But... Ken. Was in the shop alone. Shit. Well, no need to slack now that he was awake...

He raised up on one elbow, fully intending to bound out of bed and into the shower, to rush downstairs and help Ken with the shop until Omi and Aya returned from school. Aya... He groaned softly, and fell face down into the pillow.

His bed was warm. The air beyond the mattress was much colder, as if his body heat and the sun had conspired to create a radiating cocoon of warmth near the futon's surface. He snuggled down into the sleepy warmth. He did *not* wish to face his teammates. The warmth was... good.

He turned languidly onto his back, pushing his arms above his head in a stretch that arched his spine and curled his toes. His arms retracted almost of their own will to rest on belly and chest, and he allowed himself a small sigh of contentment.

This morning had...

A chill crept through his shell, and shivered his nipples erect. He turned restlessly onto his side, snagged the sheet with one long arm, and pulled it up to his neck like shrugging into a jacket, as he rolled onto his stomach. His arms he folded under his head, snugging his cheek into the pillow. Warm again. His toes wriggled restlessly, and his hips arched, pressing his slowly-waking cock into the mattress. He hummed, like a purring cat, and his hips flexed again. His blood-red hair, the only beacon in a sea of white bedclothes, blazed in the golden light.

This morning had been...

His wounds stretched, and ached, but the pain fizzled away in little zings of growing pleasure. Now he pressed his arousal into the sleep-warmed sheets, not moving more than the barest subtle wiggle, stilling the pleasure into a framework of sleep. A kitten-like yawn, a second contented, toe-curling stretch, and he snuggled into the luxury of noon-bright cotton. Nothing evil could lurk in this land of light.

This morning had been...

Sleep retreated on the wings of a fading dream, ragged-recollection of a land of grey earth, a great cascaded lake, and a love beside still waters. He opened his eyes, blinking again at the clock. 12:39. He hadn't actually gotten any more sleep than Ken. He'd just slept at a different time, he justified, refusing to feel any guilt over lying abed as he yawned again. Perhaps a cup of tea...

He wrestled himself onto his back again, rolling the stiffness out of his right shoulder and cracking the knuckles of his left hand. His jaw popped, and the slash along his ribs protested the sudden movement. His right hand crept down his belly, fingering through tangled curls to grasp the base of his cock.

His back arched, and he gasped. Never before, and possibly never again, but his fingers tightened on a mindless spasm of muscle, and he caught his lower lip in his teeth to stop a moan. His left hand came down to press into the flat plain of his belly, stretched into concavity by a flex of hips and thighs, and he was pushing down into the soft flesh, pressing to the pubic bone as he gripped his cock, as though the pressing could push the feeling away. Make it less. Like trying to hold himself down, the desperate arch of back that paid his sore ribs no heed, head tossed back to tangle sweat-streaked hair by scrubbing on white cotton.

This was new. This was more sensitive than he'd ever been. This was...

Precome slid over his grasping hand, and it stroked upward, taking his hips with it, and his voice on a gasp, and his fingers caught the proud-flaring head in a dabbling grip, unsheathing it rhythmically with light, teasing strokes. He tasted blood, and released his lip to savor the coppery flow. His neck strained, head cast away from sensations too intense to bear. He felt bare, heart-hungry, sheet kicked to the floor and a sheen of sweat starting on his moon-pale skin, glimmering in the wash of sunlight.

This morning had been fantastic.

And if Yohji ever touched him again, he would die of bliss.

This is how the certainties of his life would be defined, in the twisting of katana-calloused fingers, in the blush of a remembered hand and a whispered promise, in the pained stretch of thighs spread farther than they would go, in a body supported only by heels and shoulders in his desperation.

Yohji had...

The buzz of the alarm startled him, and his left hand slammed it into silence and he was thrust into a single bright point of ecstasy as his toes curled and his knees buckled forward, spilling him onto his side as he ribboned himself in streamers of white. His hand clenched, and he shuddered, hips shuffling in a final spurt before he could let go.

Yohji had been kind, and offered promises of hope, and he was a fool to believe.

The pleasure washed away in a flush of loathing. The sun crept upward beyond his window, it's sliver-smile fading into brilliant blue, too winter-bright to ignore. A shiver caught him, and he curled around the tangle of his crushed arms. He couldn't live like this, his seed sticky and drying on his shivering skin. He couldn't live like this. Something had to give.

* * * * * * *

Aya-chan watched Omi fiddling with a long strand of ribbon and a piece of wire, and smiled to herself. He was making a real mess of it. Not like Omi at all; like all four of them he was very skilled at his job and could usually manipulate the tools of his trade with ease.

Omi was nervous.

She supressed a giggle, and continued to dust, flicking the damp cloth over all the hard to reach nooks and crannies on the display shelves.

Omi took a deep breath.

Aya waited.

The bell rang as the shop door opened, and Ken bounded in. Flushed and beaming from soccer practice, with that gleam in his eyes which only his favourite sport seemed to be able to put there.

"Hey Ken," she said, with a smile. "I was going to make some tea. Would you like some?"

He shook his head. "No thanks. I'm just back for a quick shower, then I've got to go to the shops, pick up the new strip for the kids' team. It's red and white," he said, excitedly. "Really professional. It's really important for their motivation. How's Ran?"

"The same," said Aya. "Stubborn, pigheaded and refusing to eat."

Ken gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "He'll be alright. He just needs time. He's survived worse."

"Yeah," said Aya, but she remained unconvinced. Ran's physical injuries were healing okay - as okay as could be expected considering he refused to nourish himself and spent so much time out on the roof, heedless of the cold. She was more worried about his state of mind. Something had happened to him, she knew it. Something they weren't telling her about. She wasn't stupid; she'd helped Omi to dress Ran's wounds and she knew they weren't the result of a car accident. He'd been cut by something, something sharp. She knew Ran practiced with her father's old katana.

She knew there was something Sakura had almost told her, more than once, but never had.

Ken left the shop and could be heard bounding up the stairs, two at a time. She was alone with Omi again.

At last.

"Hey, Omi," she said, wondering if she dared to-

"AyaIhavesomethingtoaskyou," said Omi, and didn't even draw breath when he got to the end.

"Yes?" She shouldn't have enjoyed the scared look in those adorable blue eyes.

But she did.

"I was wondering if you felt like going to the movies tonight?" And then, finally, Omi let himself gasp breath.

Aya smiled at him, her heart beating just a little faster, and ran her tongue swiftly over her dry lips. "Yes please," she said.

Somewhere in the background she could hear Ken yelling at Yohji for hogging the bathroom. Familiar sounds. Home.

She let herself enjoy a little burst of happiness that spilled out as a giggle.

And then she remembered Ran.

"I'd better make that tea," she said.

* * * * * * *

Yohji took pride in the fact that he could manage to smoke and shower at the same time. It was a useful skill, not least because it was one of the few places in the apartment where he could smoke indoors without Ran or Ken glaring at him. Not that their opinion stopped him much, but it took away some of the pleasure, and Yohji really _enjoyed_ smoking.

So he leaned his back into the hot blast of water, bracing himself with one hand flat against the tile in front of him, the other holding his cigarette close to the extractor fan, watching it suck out the smoke he didn't need in blue clouds amid the steam. Then he brought it to his lips, damp but still lit and sucked hard, pulling deep into his lungs.

Of course Ran always noticed somehow, and usually complained, one way or the other. But he wasn't here right now. Yohji blew a few lazy smoke rings to celebrate that fact, before he realised that actually, there would be advantages to Ran being there.

His cock twitched.

Especially a naked Ran, all hot and slinky and not complaining about anything.

He froze, cigarette half way to his lips.

Like that would ever happen. Unless.

Damn. His cigarette had been drowned by a ricochet of water from the tile. Yohji sighed regretfully, dropped the soggy stub down the drain, and put his head under the spray, reaching for shampoo as the water plastered his thick hair to his skull. He lathered quickly, keen to get the stinging stuff out of his eyes and get back to enjoying the massage of hot water over his naked body.

And maybe another cigarette.

He tipped his head back, rinsing his hair, feeling water and foam run down his body. Irresistibly, his hand snaked between his legs, wrapping around his cock, stroking lazily, half washing, half caressing, enjoying the feel of it in his hand. It was already hard.

He smiled to himself. If there was one thing Yohji enjoyed more than smoking, it was sex. Preferably sex with another person, but sex was sex, and if there was no-one else available he was more than happy to take his own pleasure. He leaned into the water, fingers of one hand splayed over his chest while the other teased sensitive skin, his fist a loose tunnel over his erection. He searched his mind for a fantasy, an idea, a thought, the right one for that particular moment: like choosing the right shirt for a date, or the right flower for a gift. It wasn't always the obvious one. Like the arrangement Ran had done for a wedding that time, a long time ago now, when he was Aya and never really seemed to think of such things. The girl had wanted yellow carnations, to go with the table decorations, she said; but Aya had insisted, by refusing to even discuss the issue, on orange blossom and white roses. It turned out as one of his best arrangements, and the girl was delighted. It amused Yohji, that for someone who'd taken floristry as a route to revenge, Ran was very good at it. But then, the man was like that. He either did things to perfection, or he didn't do them at all.

It must be intolerable, Yohji thought, to try to live up to perfection. No wonder Ran was finding it so hard to care for Aya-chan. In a sudden flash of insight, Yohji understood a little of what Ran had told him the night before. Of how impossible it was for him to be a perfect brother, a perfect guardian: hard enough for anyone as young as Ran, who had lived without family himself for so long, but completely impossible when your soul was stained with blood and killing. And oh, the aching irony of it, that he'd been brought to that state of sin for no reason other than to care for his sister.

It was easier for Yohji. He expected little of himself, except to protect and care for those who were vulnerable, and those he loved. God knows, he thought, that's hard enough. Especially when the people you cared about didn't let you help them. Like Ran.

Only, not anymore, Yohji realised. Last night, Ran had come to him, and asked him for help.

God. He really had.

He remembered the look on Ran's face, the desperation, all the questions in his eyes that couldn't get as far as his words.

He remembered long, pale fingers, streaking through crimson hair.

Suddenly, he had an image he could really work with.

The part of Yohji that had been enjoying the stroke of his hand on his cock all this time, regardless of what else he might have been thinking about, reasserted itself fiercely, dominating his mind with a flash of lust. It was so powerful that he had no difficulty in pushing any contemplation of his emotions swiftly to one side, and surrendered to the memory of Ran, vulnerable, open and needing him.

And beautiful. So, so beautiful: all that strength wrapped up in porcelain skin and graceful movement. Yohji contemplated what that skin might feel like to touch, not the brief squeeze of solidarity to a team-mate's shoulder, but lingering contact of lover's fingers on bare flesh. He recalled a patchwork of memories of Ran, and before Ran, Aya, surprised by the wealth of secrets his mind had hidden away: the exact colour and texture of Ran's skin when he'd stitched his torn flesh after missions; the golden play of sunlight across his shoulders when he'd come out of the shower wrapped in a towel; the ripple of muscles slicing curved blade; the soft hand around Aya-chan's, comforting her after a nightmare... memories that Yohji had thought meant no more than friendship filled him with hot desire; he stretched his body and gloried in it, pulling steadily on his cock, biting his lip to keep from crying out.

Then the hair, and the eyes, of course: crimson and lavender, fire and crystal. And his mouth, soft and wet. Yohji's imagination asserted itself over his memory, making the leap from aesthetics to carnality, and wrapped that perfect mouth around Yohji's sex, taking him all down, red hair splashed over Yohji's tight, golden thighs.

Yohji roared as he came, unable to stop himself even if he had been aware of the noise, mind blanked with surprise and searing pleasure.

He slumped against the shower wall, absently licking threads of white from his fingers, stretching sensuously; eventually his breath returned and his heartbeat slowed enough that his brain started to think again, albeit still drunk with afterglow.

He opened his eyes, submitting to the return of reality.

He needed to do some thinking. But not now. Not yet.

Yohji sighed with the satisfaction of the moment. For now, he felt warm, his skin tingled and his balls were humming pleasantly. He felt damn good.

He stuck one hand out of the shower to rummage in the pile of clothes and towels on the floor. He was vaguely aware of Ken's voice outside, telling him to hurry up, but Ken was easily ignored.

Yohji smiled as he let the water caress his glowing skin, and lit another cigarette.


	3. Chapter 3

### Chapter 3

"Ran-niichan, you didn't eat your dinner!" Aya's protesting voice drifted up the back stair, and Ran flinched, almost imperceptibly. Yohji lingered near the doorway, stopping at the sound of the girl's rebuke. He turned, and raised a lazy brow to Ran's still form.

"Still not hungry?" he asked softly.

They hadn't really spoken since-

"Hn," Ran grunted, staring out the window into a smeared-pastels sky, running to plum-raisin near the far horizon with the early sunset. His shoulder throbbed, and he mentally retraced the path to his fire escape retreat. And so it was: reduced to staring with a sick longing toward his only promise of peace.

"You need to eat," Yohji said quietly. His voice was almost... penitent.

It made Ran sick to hear it, the bile rose in his throat with acidic fury. Fury at himself, mostly. He told... He told Yohji _everything_. Everything he himself knew. It wasn't enough, it hadn't been enough, and now the bastard had the temerity to-

"I'm not hungry," he said harshly, not looking at Yohji, though the man hovered now just out of reach. Forever out of reach. "I'll come down and get something later."

"When Aya-chan and Omi are at the movie?" Yohji said. His voice was almost suggestive, though lacking its usual energy. Ran ignored the playboy's insinuation that he was avoiding his sister. The sun itself was a crimson flame, almost the color of his hair.

The color of blood. It was said that the moon grew cold at night, missing the sun's warmth, and longed ever for its bright lover...

"Yes," he whispered, staring at the sinking sun. It mattered not.

"Yohji-kun, Ran-kun!" Omi called up the stairs, his voice echoing as though he were stifling giggles. Ran's heart hurt. "We're leaving for the theatre!"

"Be back by eleven, young man!" Ken bellowed down the stairs. Ran started; he hadn't heard Ken leave his room next door. "And don't do anything Yohji would do!"

"Tch, that doesn't leave him much room for fun," Yohji drawled, while Omi yelled something unintelligible back at the footballer. Ran turned his face away. Another voice echoed up the stairs.

"Your sister says eat something," Ken said, his voice gravelly as he strode down the hallway, his distinctive rolling gait marking his every move. "I'm headed for the arcade, I'll be back late."

Ran watched Ken don his bomber jacket from the corner of his eye, not responding to the repeated plea. Yohji sighed again, following Ken with a beleaguered air. It had been left to him to close the shop, and he'd been bitching about it most of the day. When he wasn't avoiding Ran, of course.

Yohji's presence faded, like a lingering perfume. Or just the scent of those damn cigarettes. Ran's eyes squeezed shut.

This had been a mistake. He should never have come back to the Koneko.

His shoulders curled in, and his wound throbbed, and his hands clenched tight enough to cut halfmoons into each palm. He deserved this, every second of it. He didn't... How could he have _said_ those things...

No wonder Yohji hated him.

Time passed. He could hear the hum of Omi's moped, the darker growl of Ken's Yamaha, barely street-legal. Yohji clattered and clanged about downstairs, and the sun sank lower, burned darker, and finally slipped below the horizon as the front shutters rattled closed.

He uncurled from his frozen position on the bed. He would never heal this way, and he had to heal. He needed a mission, and soon. Maybe then...

Maybe then Yohji would stop fleeing the room each time he entered.

He stopped outside the bathroom door, hand catching the frame to steady himself. No. What was he thinking? It had just been... him. He was the only one. Yohji shouldn't...

He couldn't shove this onto Yohji. This was his blame to carry. This was his fault.

He shivered. Aya-chan had confiscated the orange sweater, claming that she had a much-improved sense of aesthetics, and had promised to knit him something in blue or green instead. She never had, and he missed the warmth. The winter had seeped into the tiles or the pipes, and he stood uneasily on numbing feet as he folded his things neatly. He pulled a towel from the linen closet, and edged carefully out of that tight corner to climb into the shower. The water in the sunken tub, nearly crystal, echoed oddly off the tiles.

He hooked the towel carefully over its peg, and reached out hesitantly to turn the silver spigot. Icewater spurted from the showerhead, striking his face and chest and startling him instantly alert. He didn't move from the cold, waiting patiently as the water warmed slowly, and finally became hot. The heat was delicious, and he turned slowly to let it soak into his hair and run soothing fingers down his battered sides.

He had to think about this rationally. Yohji now knew his every secret. Or, at least, the most secret of them all. Yohji did not appear to have any stronger tie to him than that of a teammate. Yohji would therefore tell his secret, and so must die.

The soap fell to the tiles with a dull thud. The bar bounced, and skidded into one corner. He watched it with apathetic eyes. Kill Yohji?

A shiver wracked him.

Impossible.

If the others found out... Then so be it. His eyes squeezed shut, and he stifled what could have been a sob. If Yohji had cared... then it woudn't have needed to be a secret anymore.

If Yohji had...

No, he reminded himself sternly, scrubbing the shampoo into his scalp with undue harshness. This is still your fault, he reiterated. Yohji has no obligation to you, he never did. That was not attraction, that was friendship, and you...

Oh God, it hurt.

Conditioner now, just a smear for detangler. He would bury this. It wouldn't affect him for much longer, but God he wished it would. A tear ran down one pale cheek. He'd so wanted to feel.

* * * * * *

Yohji sat on the edge of his bed, cigarette almost done, staring at the door to his room. Soon, he'd have to open it, and make a decision, and then his life would be different. One way or the other, it was bound to be different.

He didn't know what he should do. He wasn't even completely sure what he _wanted_ to do.

He stubbed out his cigarette in the overflowing ashtray, and flung himself back on his bed. It was dark now, and getting cold, and he was aware he should be hungry. He probably would be, he reflected, if he hadn't smoked so much.

He wanted Ran.

He wanted to take him in his arms and comfort him, tell him it would all be alright. He wanted to strip him, lay him on this bed and warm his pale skin with kisses. He wanted to find out what he looked like when he came, whether he made a sound, whether he went still or thrashed about. He wanted to know what his kisses tasted like.

He wanted to show him how good it could be.

He reached for cigarettes and lighter. One more. Then he'd go find something to eat. And talk to Ran. One more cigarette and…

And what?

He put this third-to-last cigarette between cold lips and lit it, drawing his feet up to the edge of the bed. He sucked hot smoke into vaguely protesting lungs, and sighed it out, watched it curl up to the yellowed ceiling.

He couldn't be with Ran. That was ridiculous. Cold, dangerous, stubborn Ran?

He wanted to be.

He folded his left arm across his stomach, flicked ash into the ashtray. It was quiet, at last; Ran was probably still brooding somewhere, and the others were out. Only the distant hum of the traffic penetrated the windows. The overhead light was spreading shadows through Yohji's room, pools of dark gathering in cold corners.

He wasn't even certain that Ran liked him that much. Wanted him, perhaps, but… Yohji smiled to himself. Since when did he get that fussy? He'd been used before, knowingly, willingly, even. Neu…

He squeezed his eyes shut. No. Don't go there. Asuka…

Asuka was dead. And nothing to do with this, at all. That was love: life-changing, heart-breaking, soul-taking love. He didn't deserve to love anyone. This was nothing to do with love.

He opened his eyes with a sigh, rubbed flecks of dropped ash into his jeans.

He had no idea what this was about.

It wasn't like he hadn't tried to find out. He gritted his teeth with remembered frustration at the number of times he'd tried to talk to Ran over the past few days. There was always something, some reason they couldn't discuss it: Omi was fussing round him, or Ken had put him in such a foul mood there was no talking to him at all, or, most often, Aya-chan was there, and the pain was so clear on Ran's face that Yohji could do no more than soothe, a touch here, a smile there, the odd word… anything to make it better. It couldn't go on any longer, he knew. Aya-chan knew something was wrong; only this morning she'd looked at him, when Ran was gazing out of the window, torturing himself in his head, and she'd begged him, with those beautiful, big, irresistible eyes, to help. Yohji had given her his brightest smile, as if she were worrying about nothing… a denial worthy of Ran himself.

But it was quiet now. There was nothing in the way of the conversation he'd been running through his head for days; there was nothing stopping him from going and taking Ran in his arms, giving him what he said he wanted. Healing him with that unique brand of Kudoh affection; making him _his_.

He couldn't do it.

It wasn't right. He didn't want to take advantage of Ran's need, or desire. Just because his head was full of fantasies which involved, in some way or another, getting better acquainted with Ran's naked and beautiful body, didn't mean he could solve all Ran's problems with one good fuck. Or even more than one.

It couldn't work. Ran was too fragile, too vulnerable. He didn't know what he wanted, not really, he'd said as much, in the cold dawn on the fire escape. Much as Yohji hated to see Ran suffering, hating himself, fading away in the face of pain and confusion, he couldn't offer _himself_ as a solution.

Could he?

His cigarette finished, Yohji dragged himself off the bed, raking his fingers through tangled hair. He had to do the right thing, for Ran's good, for Aya-chan's good, for his own good. This could never work. For once in his life, he had to do the right thing.

Didn't he?


	4. Chapter 4

### Chapter 4

When he got to the kitchen, Yohji found Ran scraping his plate into the bin.

"Have you eaten?" Yohji crossed to the fridge, casting a glance at Ran as he passed.

"Aya-chan cooked noodles," said Ran, as though that were explanation enough. He deposited his plate and cutlery in the sink, and set the tap running.

"But you didn't actually eat anything, I suppose?" Yohji nagged, gently.

Ran shrugged, folding his arms around thin ribs, eyes fixed on flowing water. Yohji shook his head, pulling a can of beer out of the fridge. "Well, you can't drink on an empty stomach," he said absently, to fill the silence, ripping the tab off and proceeding to do exactly that.

"No." Ran washed up slowly, methodically, as if trying very hard not to break anything.

Yohji sat at the table, watching him. Waiting for the right moment, and knowing it wouldn't come. "Come and sit down. We need to talk," he said eventually. "Now."

Ran braced himself over the sink, elbows locked straight, his back to Yohji. He shut off the tap, and water gurgled down the drain, then there was silence, interrupted only by the faint knocking of the pipes.

"Ran, please."

"I know what you're going to say." The hollow echo of Ran's deep monotone suggested that perhaps he did.

"Sit down. Please."

"I don't know why you waited so long." Ran didn't move. "You could have told me right away. Why now?"

"Ran, I'm not going to talk to your fucking back. Sit. Down." Yohji kicked out the chair opposite him, scraping the legs with a squeal on the wooden floor.

Ran flinched slightly at the sound; his shoulders hunched defensively, and he hissed and stilled as his wounds pulled. Yohji bit his lip, wanting to shake Ran until he saw what he was doing to himself, but Ran finally turned from the sink. His porcelain face was impassive, and he dried his hands and put the towel carefully back on its rail, before he sat down across the table from Yohji.

"I'm listening," he said, hands folded on the table before him.

Yohji studied Ran's eyes carefully. Somewhere, under that screen of apathy that was part depression and part Ran's usual cold mask, was rejection and pain. He could see it, just. He couldn't bear it.

"It's not that I don't care about you..." Yohji started.

He found himself cringing inwardly at his own words. God, how many women had he said that to? This was the part where they usually called him a bastard and started throwing things. Or started crying. Although, it didn't usually happen at the beginning. It was usually later, after they'd had fun, and it got to the point where they'd started to ask if they could come and stay at his place for a change, wanted to know how he'd become a florist, where his parents lived… Ran already knew all those things, knew more about Yohji than he wanted to know himself.

"That sounds lame," said Yohji, lamely.

Ran's expression didn't change. "I understand," he said, flatly. He probably thought he did.

"I meant… this isn't easy." It was suddenly terribly important, that Ran should understand that Yohji did care for him, that he'd tended him and watched out for him, and tried his damndest to help him recover from Shion, not just because he was part of Weiß and all that meant, but because he'd _wanted_ to look after him. He'd seen Aya be braver and more dedicated and committed than he could ever dream of being, and he wanted to see him get _better_.

"Is there anything else?" Ran's voice was low, lacking even his usual energy; his eyes drifted over Yohji's shoulder, towards the stairs. Looking forward to escape. He was folding a paper napkin, creasing a spine into it with careful fingers.

"Yes, damn it, there is! Look, this isn't just up to me," Yohji said, almost pleading with the still face and impassive eyes. "What about you? What do you want, really?"

Ran blinked, and his eyes focused on Yohji's with a confused, almost resentful look.

"I told you," he said. He lowered his eyes behind crimson bangs. Then a sigh, and: "Yohji, I understand. I know that you don't want me. I understand. You could have told me straight away. I should never have…"

"You're not listening," Yohji muttered, almost under his breath. "It's not that I don’t want you, God, no. It's just I was thinking… if anything were to happen between us, and then if it didn't work out… if we were to… we'd still have to work together. Live together. Kritiker wouldn't give a fuck what we felt about each other… Can you imagine what that would be like?"

"Yes," Ran said quietly, still not meeting Yohji's sincere gaze.

"And there's the others to consider," he continued, feeling desperate now, "Omi and Ken… it would change the whole dynamic of the team. It would change the way we work. And…"

"Aya-chan," Ran whispered, eyes intent on his fingers, and the napkin.

"Of course," he exclaimed, almost relieved, "she's…"

"She'd hate me." Ran's face closed even further at the thought, and Yohji wished for a moment that he could recall his own words. "Even more than…"

"No, Ran, I don't…"

"You're right, Yohji," Ran interrupted him suddenly. His voice had cleared, and he met Yohji's gaze with opaque violet eyes. "Don't think I haven't considered every possibility. I have." He faltered then, eyes drifting to the door again. "I just…"

"Yes," Yohji said softly, staring at Ran, "I know. I'm glad you told me."

There was a silence. Yohji took a long draw on his beer, and pulled out a cigarette. Ran didn't even seem to notice, until it was lit and a plume of smoke drifted across the table. Even then, although he shot Yohji an icy glare, he didn't say anything.

Yohji continued to smoke his second-to-last cigarette, closing his eyes determinedly to enjoy this last bit of chemical bliss.

"You won't tell anyone?" He looked up, and Ran caught his gaze, piercing eyes carrying half-threat, half-request.

"Fuck, Aya, Ran," he stumbled, nearly dropping the cig. "Of _course_ not. And," he continued, hesitant now, "you know, if you need anything… to talk, anything...."

Ran pulled his gaze back, dipping his head in a single nod, eyes mostly hidden under crimson bangs.

Yohji dragged miserably on his cigarette, even the nicotine bringing him no pleasure now. Why did doing the right thing always hurt so damn much? "There are other reasons," he said, cursing himself for prolonging the conversation even as the words escaped his lips. "I mean, if this is all new to you, you should take it slow. It's bound to take some working through," he said, desperately convincing. "And you don't really want to do that with a cynical old bastard like me."

Ran's eyes cut through him like the slice of his blade to a target. _Yes_, that look said, _I do_.

"If I can help," Yohji's tongue was running away with him now, he knew, but somehow he couldn't stop it, "if you ever want to talk, or…"

"Thank you," Ran said, coldly.

Yohji clamped his mouth shut around his cigarette and sucked hard. Desperate to keep himself from making this worse.

"The others will be back soon," said Ran, after a while. He stood up, graceful as ever, absently rubbing at the soreness in his right shoulder that had lingered since the fight with Shion.

Yohji nodded, folding his cigarette stub into the ashtray. "I'm almost out of cigarettes," he said, almost to himself. "I might just take a drive, go buy some."

"Be careful," said Ran, softly. "You've been drinking."

Yohji looked at the empty beer can, as if noticing it for the first time. "Oh. Yes. Of course."

Ran placed the napkin carefully on the table in front of Yohji. It was folded, perfectly, into a paper airplane.

Yohji stared at it for a moment, a shiver running down his spine.

"One of those saved my life, once," he whispered.

"Yes," said Ran. "And mine."

They looked at each other in silence for a moment, reaching an understanding, of sorts.

"It's best this way," said Yohji, eventually.

"Yes."

Ran made to head for the door, just as Yohji pushed his chair back, bumping hard against Ran's arm. He saw the pain in Ran's eyes straight away, as his hand went to his shoulder as if to protect it, too late: damnit, thought Yohji, what a time to get clumsy. He scrambled to his feet, anxious.

"Oh shit, I'm sorry, is it alright?"

"It's nothing," Ran lied. "Just stiff…"

"Let me see…" Yohji gently took his fingers to Ran's shoulder, probing muscles taut as his wire.

"It's okay," Ran insisted. "I'm fine."

"Are you sure? Only the muscle was ripped you know, and if it doesn't mend properly…"

"Now you sound like Omi. I'm fine."

"Just let me get the knots out." Yohji turned Ran away from him, without waiting for his approval, and set to work about his shoulder blade, sharp bone all too easily found even under his thick shirt, and dug in underneath it, separating muscles with clever thumbs.

Ran grunted, pressing back into him a little, tilting his head back, a crimson curtain falling in front of Yohji's eyes.

"Is that okay?" Yohji leaned forward just a little, whispering into Ran's ear. His left ear. The one with the earring.

"Yes," said Ran, nothing at all in his voice. "Thank you."

Yohji was suddenly aware of a particular patch of Ran's bare neck, just below his ear, behind the earring. Slender ivory with a pinkish cast from the reflection of scarlet hair, pulsing faintly in time with his heartbeat.

The world stood still and quiet, for a moment; Yohji was aware that his hands had stopped moving.

"Yohji?" His name dripped like honey from Ran's lips.

He stared at Ran's skin with a longing so deep it hurt.

It was too much to ask, that he resist this. Too much.

He reached out to Ran, not with his words, or his hands, or even his lips. He reached out with his tongue, soft and wet, and tasted alabaster skin, licking a glistening line up slender neck to ear, finally wrapping around his earlobe, bright metal mingling with sweet skin.

Ran let out a soft cry of surprise. His body didn't melt into Yohji's arms; neither did he pull away. He just held still, barely breathing. World stood still. Yohji waited, his whole body singing to him, eyes closed, heart pounding, his breath cool on Ran's wet skin.

Yohji felt a hand, reaching back to pull his head closer into Ran's neck.

With a groan, Yohji put his mouth to tender flesh, his arms snaking around Ran's slender waist and pulling him back, fingers teased by a flash of naked skin around his hip where his shirt didn't cover.

_Oh God_. Yohji's eyes fluttered closed, better to feel Ran's body against his, holding him close. God, it felt so good, just holding him...

"Yohji," Ran's voice was a rasp, as if he couldn't get enough breath into his body to speak. "Yohji…"

"It's okay," Yohji whispered in his ear, almost sure that it was.

"No, I can't…" Ran peeled Yohji's arms away from his body, twisting free; Yohji reluctantly let him go, and fought hard to keep from pursuing him, for now, at least.

Ran folded his own arms over his belly, where Yohji's had just been, hunching his shoulders, eyes closed, trying to find his thoughts under the haze of lust that Yohji had thrown over his mind like a veil.

"Ran…"

He didn't answer. Yohji waited, pulse racing, uncertain, missing the warmth of the other man's body, the taste of his skin fresh on his tongue. He realised Ran was trembling, slightly, just a quiver in the tight muscles across his back. Finally, stumbling a little, words came.

"I don't want... I _understand_, Yohji, you don't have to..." He paused to fill his lungs, fragile ribs expanding under strong breath. He straightened a little as he exhaled, slowly. "I don't want your pity."

It was all Yohji could do to keep from laughing, or crying. Pity? Did Ran really think that holding him in his arms, adoring that beautiful flesh, was an act of _pity_?

"Come here," he said quietly.

Ran darted a look over his shoulder, narrow eyes flashing between shoulder and bangs.

"Come here," Yohji persisted, voice calm, eyes soft, head tilted slightly to one side.

Ran turned slowly, confused by the certainty in Yohji's expression, and even more so by the slight tilt to his hips, and a strand of dark blonde hair that was curling gently towards his mouth. He stood, hypnotised by this small, casual detail of Yohji's appearance, as Yohji stepped towards him.

"You know this isn't pity." Yohji's serious voice, deep and resonant. "Fuck, Ran, I don't _do_ pity."

"Then." Ran had never felt so vulnerable in his life. Of all the attacks he'd endured, of all the times he'd glared at an opponent, disarmed and waiting for a finishing blow, none of them made him feel as exposed, as raw, as this. He just looked at Yohji, completely out of his depth; he had no idea how any of this _worked_. He felt weak, his usually sharp mind reduced to confusion by Yohji's gaze and near-starvation; caught between an almost overwhelming desire to take whatever Yohji offered, and a conviction that Yohji didn't, couldn't possibly, want him.

"Ran, stop this," he said roughly. "I told you I'd think about it." Then he smiled. "I did. I want you, Fujimiya Ran. I want you."

"What? But, then . . . the others . . ." Ran looked confused; it reminded Yohji vaguely of the look on Omi's face when he was trying to puzzle out information from the riddles Kritiker called mission briefings. As if he was thinking so hard he couldn't see the plain truth in front of him. Then, suddenly, there was just the slightest, brightest flicker of hope. Fleeting, soon gone, but Yohji had seen it. It was enough.

"I've suddenly decided that I don't care anymore what they think," he said. One brow arched. "Actually, I never did care what they think. Ran," he continued, suddenly serious. "I don't care for myself. Only for you. If you don't want the others to know..."

"I don't..." A flicker crossed Ran's eyes. "Aya can't know," he said sadly. His eyes were fading slowly to despair, and Yohji stepped forward quickly. He crossed the short space between them, reached out a hand, slowly, to touch the bare patch of skin on Ran's neck that he'd so recently claimed.

"Ran, if you want to keep this hidden..." he trailed off. "I just want you to be sure about this."

Ran's eyes were still downcast, lids flickering minutely with the movements of Yohji's fingers over his bare skin. He nodded vaguely, and Yohji grimaced.

"Ran, I am sure," he said intently, catching Ran's chin and forcing the violet eyes to meet his. "Are you? I need to know that you're sure."

Ran 'mmph'ed, his lip curling in a snarl. His eyes flared. "Why do you keep asking that? I can't... Why does it _matter_ so much to you?!" He was practically spitting the words.

"I-" Yohji stopped, stunned. A slow tenderness crept into his eyes, and he smiled, just a crook of his lips, and brushed his thumb across Ran's cheek. "Because _you_ matter to me. I want to get this right, can you understand that?" Some of the desperation was creeping back into his voice. "No regrets, Ran. I want this to be _right_."

"It's right," Ran said, voice a bare whisper, eyes open. He pulled Yohji's head down so that their foreheads bumped gently together. "It's right."

"Ran, I-" Yohji half-smiled. "Can you... How can you be sure?" he asked, voice burning.

Ran's eyes softened, staring up at Yohji. His lip curled in a tiny, crooked almost-smile. He blinked. "I matter to you." The tiny smile widened, and Yohji melted. "To you, I matter." And he tugged at Yohji's neck until their lips met, a delicate brush of flesh on flesh.

"You matter," Yohji groaned into slickened skin, hands coming up to card crimson hair. "Oh God, Ran, you _matter_."

Their lips barely touched, a teasing butterfly dance of Ran shifting onto his toes to kiss just the edge of Yohji's smile. Yohji moved to his bit of flesh, the naked skin of Ran's neck, and touched tongue to bruise until Ran's eyes glazed over, lost focus and finally fluttered shut. Yohji smiled, sliding his fingers through Ran's hair to cradle the back of his head, pulling him close enough for a deeper kiss.

"That's better," he murmured, and covered Ran's lips softly with his own.

Ran stiffened slightly, either still fighting himself or unsure as to how to respond, Yohji wasn't sure which; then he kissed Yohji back, hard and a little clumsily, with a bump of noses. Yohji stroked the back of Ran's head with his thumb, letting him find his way a little before he took control again, taking the kiss back to the merest brush of lips, feeling Ran relax _at last_ under his touch. His mouth was soft now, and his body leaned comfortably into Yohji's as tentative arms slid down to Yohji's waist.

Yohji hummed approvingly, brushing Ran's hair back from his uptilted face with both hands, luxuriating in the soft, silky feel of it. He kissed Ran a little harder, delighted at the way he picked up the change of pace, awkwardness forgotten in easy, sensual movement.

They came up for air, breathless; Ran's eyes shuttered open to meet a heat in Yohji's green gaze he'd never seen before. His heart thudded in his chest.

"Okay?" Yohji stroked a finger along the clean line of Ran's jaw.

"Yes," he said, his voice clear and steady, belying the rare and pleasant chaos of his mind.

Yohji smiled lazily, hair falling in his eyes, head tilted to one side. "If you want to stop," he said, teasing more than offering, "just say."

"No," Ran replied, the hint of an answering smile tugging at his lips, "I don't want to stop. Unless you…"

"Oh no," said Yohji with a chuckle, and dipped his head for another kiss, a little firmer this time. To his surprise Ran flicked out his tongue for Yohji to welcome into his mouth, circling it with his own and sucking gently on the tip. He ran one hand down Ran's spine, settling in the small of his back, grunting with satisfaction as Ran echoed the move, pulling them closer together. Yohji felt a shock of pleasure as his hardness brushed against an answering bulge in Ran's tight jeans, voiced in a moan deep in his throat. He felt Ran smile into their kiss, and he started to tease Yohji's tongue with his, darting into his mouth only to retreat into his own, forcing Yohji to follow.

Once again panting for breath, Yohji raised his head, kissing the tip of Ran's nose, his forehead. "You taste good," he murmured.

"You taste awful," said Ran, "but I don't give a fuck." He brushed his lips down Yohji's throat, coming to rest in the hollow between neck and shoulder.

"Sorry," said Yohji, a little repentant. "I could go brush my teeth," he said, "but that would mean letting you out of my sight and I really don't want to do that right now."

"Me neither," murmured Ran, licking his way back up Yohji's neck to his ear.

"There is one thing, though," Yohji crooned.

"Mmm?"

"If you're going to carry on with that, I need to be near something soft, because my knees are going to give way."

"Hn." Ran grunted. "Where?"

"Upstairs?" Yohji suggested, "my room?" He felt the faintest hesitation as Ran paused in his licking of Yohji's ear. He waited.

"Alright," Ran said, eventually. "Your room."

Yohji grinned broadly, quite pleased that Ran's face was still buried in his neck, or he would probably have been accused of gloating. "Come on then," he took Ran's hand, unwilling to let go of him for fear he might change his mind, and led him smiling upstairs.


	5. Chapter 5

### Chapter 5

Yohji's room was still cold; he noticed Ran shiver a little as he shut the door securely behind them. "Make yourself at home," he said, and went to turn on the fire. "Sorry it's cold. It'll warm up in a bit."

"I'm fine," said Ran, almost automatically, still shivering.

Yohji snorted sceptically. "You're cold." He felt Ran's neck with the back of his hand, the skin cool despite his rapid pulse; Ran leaned into the touch like a cat, hungry for contact. Yohji nodded towards the bed. "Why don’t you get under the covers and warm up a bit?"

"I'm fine," Ran protested, with his usual resistance towards anyone trying to take care of him, faint irritation crossing his face out of habit.

Yohji laughed. "I tell you what," he said, as seriously as he could manage, green eyes twinkling, "I'll get in with you, just to keep you company."

"Oh," a slightly sheepish smile displaced the confused frown on Ran's face, the faintest of blushes spreading across his nose. "Alright."

Yohji pushed Ran gently towards the bed, following him under covers that felt almost damp with cold. He took Ran in his arms as naturally as if they'd been doing this for years, pulling the quilt up to their ears, kissing the top of Ran's head as he snuggled into Yohji's neck. It felt so good, so _right_, that it took Yohji's breath away.

Ran let out a whimper as he slid an arm around Yohji's waist, finding his way tentatively under his shirt and brushing bare skin. Yohji jumped, hissed: "… fuck, your hands are cold…" but made no attempt to move away, letting his body warm Ran's fingers, seeking out Ran's lips with his for a long, deep kiss.

By the time he raised his head, Ran's hand was warm on his back, stroking up and down his spine in gentle, rhythmic movements.

They lay in silence for a while, enjoying the warmth, Yohji answering Ran's caress with soft strokes of crimson hair that smelt distantly of rose petals. He could almost drift to sleep, Yohji thought, if it wasn't for the fact that he didn't want to miss this, not a second of it. That and the almost painful throbbing of his cock, constricted by tight denim.

He noticed a change in the pattern of Ran's stroking; he was sweeping lower, over the belt of Yohji's low-slung jeans, ghosting over his backside. Yohji groaned, tilted Ran's face to kiss, sliding his tongue steadily into Ran's mouth. Ran answered his kiss with a heat that took Yohji completely by surprise, arching his body firmly against Yohji's, sucking his tongue and moaning softly in the back of his throat. Yohji's body asserted its need starkly; he had a sudden and powerful desire to go with this rise in passion, to tear Ran's clothes from his body and fuck him senseless. From the way Ran's body was writhing against him he guessed they were sharing that goal; Yohji kissed Ran harder, giving his passion free rein, sliding one hand up under Ran's shirt to tease a hard nipple. The effect on Ran was electric; he gasped and arched, pushing his hips hard against Yohji's, whimpered faintly as he settled to the feeling.

Yohji felt fingers loosening his belt, grappling with the top button of his jeans. God, he was fast, for a…

Yohji's mind cleared a little, with that thought. "Ran," he whispered, "hold on."

"Just tell me," Ran panted into his ear, "tell me what to do…"

Reluctantly, Yohji took his hand from Ran's chest, ignoring the resulting whimper of protest. "Let's just take it slow, huh?" He brushed Ran's bangs back from his eyes, kissed him briefly. "There's no rush."

"I want…"

"I know," said Yohji, "but this is new to you, right? Let's just take it a bit at a time."

"But.."

"Ran." Yohji surveyed Ran's face with a steady, open gaze. "Trust me. We have plenty of time," and then, answering the unasked question in Ran's violet eyes, "I'm not going anywhere."

Ran nodded once, understanding.

"Good," Yohji kissed him again.

"But I still don't…"

"Shhh," Yohji soothed, a grin spreading across his face, "let me show you. Just lie back and let me show you."

Ran let Yohji roll him over onto his back with an vaguely indulgent smile, and lay still while Yohji just looked at him, slowly pulling the quilt back from his body.

"Warm enough?" Yohji checked, pausing with one hand flat over the scar on Ran's belly. Gentle. Protective. Ran nodded, and Yohji slowly started to undo shirt buttons, starting at the bottom and working up steadily, until he could peel the thick fabric over Ran's broad shoulders and down his arms, taking extra care on his wounded side. Yohji's hair tickled Ran's sensitive skin as he moved, bringing nerve endings vividly to life.

Yohji's fingers moved in patterns over Ran's flesh, tracing muscle first, then going gently over fading bruises and old scars… surprisingly few scars, considering. One thing about Ran, he healed well… when he let himself. His nipples were pink and hard, exquisitely sensitive, sending visible shocks through his body when Yohji touched them, so much so that he didn't dare dip his head and assault them with his tongue, not yet. His hand drifted across the smooth, tight belly to the top button of his jeans, holding Ran's eyes with his own as he undid it, and the next, and the next, using only fingertips, peeling back denim to reveal soft cotton underwear. He shuffled down the bed a little, Ran lifting his lithe body co-operatively to allow Yohji to peel his remaining clothing off his legs, kicking jeans and underwear over his feet to form a crumpled heap at the foot of the bed.

Yohji ran one hand back up firm thighs, transfixed by his first sight of Ran's cock, long and hard, rooted in a patch of deep crimson curls.

Ran was trembling, spread out naked in front of him, gazing at him through hooded eyes that held a bare, almost painful trust that Yohji had never seen before.

"So beautiful," he murmured under his breath, softly stroking the back of his knuckles over silky skin, following the subtle arc, noticing how Ran's hips flexed at his touch, his balls contracting sharply. He dragged his eyes up Ran's body to his face, tilted back as his body arched, lower lip caught gently between sharp white teeth. Yohji wrapped his fingers around Ran's length and squeezed firmly, relieving the pressure some, making Ran growl deep in his throat.

Yohji relaxed his grip a little and gave a few tentative strokes, judging by Ran's reaction what he liked best: firm but steady, even movements right along the length of his cock, unhooding the head with each stroke to be palmed, slick precome spread over sensitive skin. Yohji settled into a rhythm, one hand on Ran's cock while the other stroked his belly, watching the heated response of Ran's body to his touch with something approaching awe.

He felt Ran's fingers in his hair, pulling him down for a kiss; his tongue probing gently as he moaned softly into Yohji's mouth.

"Yohji…" that voice again, syrup dripping from a spoon, "let me touch you."

It was all Yohji could do to keep from coming on the spot, those words centering him vividly on the fact that Fujimiya Ran, the most beautiful man he'd ever seen, was lying in his bed and asking, _asking_ to touch him…

"Of course," he whispered hoarsely, fumbling one-handed with his jeans, brain too clouded to work.

"It's okay, you can let go for a minute," Ran regarded him through a haze of lust, normally pale cheekbones stained pink with a flush of pleasure, "I'm not going anywhere."

Yohji smiled at him, a little foolishly, and Ran helped him out of his clothes; or rather he inspired him out of his clothes, greeting each newly exposed inch of flesh with soft, investigative fingertips and warm, curious eyes. When he was finally naked, Ran pulled Yohji down beside him, rolled onto his side, and took Yohji's golden length in a grip so deliciously firm, so respectful, so perfect that Yohji just melted into the bed, eyes sliding shut. "Oh God," he murmured, "oh, Ran that's so good..." He reached blindly for Ran's body, pulling him closer and brushing his lips against his cheek, his nose, sliding one hand down to reclaim his grip on Ran's erection.

"Yohji… I can't… you'll make me…"

"Yes," Yohji husked, "I know," stroking Ran's sex as mercilessly as Ran was caressing his own, so close that their knuckles clashed, though neither cared. "Come for me," Yohji whispered, knowing that Ran had no choice, watching his face as he tensed all over, scarlet bangs falling back from his face as he arched into Yohji's body; he covered the head of Ran's cock with his palm to catch the first jet, wanting to feel the pressure as it was released from Ran's hard body. The slick feel of it sent him over the edge himself, letting out a loud groan and pushing his sex against Ran's as they spurted over each other's bellies. Yohji flung his arms around Ran and held him as tightly as he could, suddenly vulnerable, his face buried in crimson silk as his body shuddered, still groaning with every throb of his cock. Ran seemed aware of his need, despite the pleasure racking his own body, and answered it, hugging him close with one arm, stroking his hair, his breath warm against Yohji's cheek. As their bodies finally began to relax, Ran lifted his head, gentle surprise clear on his face as he saw the tears in Yohji's eyes.

"Just hold me," Yohji whispered, and settled into Ran's arms, pulling the quilt over their sticky bodies, noticing Ran wince slightly as his stiffening shoulder protested their recent activity. He softly laid his arm over Ran's belly, covering the wound with his palm. Ran grunted his age-old protest at evidence of care, but covered Yohji's hand with his own, brushing his forehead with his lips as they drifted towards sleep.


	6. Chapter 6

### Chapter 6

Ran woke to find himself alone. For one moment of pure despair, he believed it could have been a dream; that he was waking in his own bed, that Yohji didn't want him.

Gradually it dawned on him that the bed was far too soft to be his; that it was further from the window; that the sheets were a deep, rich blue rather than his plain white ones; and he was naked, and his belly was vaguely sticky.

He yawned and stretched, wondering where Yohji was; then he heard familiar clattering and swearing coming from the direction of the kitchen. He allowed himself a smile, snuggling contentedly under the thick quilt. He felt warm, his skin was glowing and his shoulder and belly hurt hardly at all. At some point he'd have to think all this through, but for now he was happy just to lie there, listening to Yohji's footsteps on the stairs and basking in the afterglow.

The door opened to reveal a half-dressed Yohji carrying a tray, his last cigarette dangling loosely from the corner of his mouth. He grinned at Ran, putting the tray on the dresser and taking the unlit cig from his mouth before bouncing onto the bed to kiss him. Ran wound his arms lazily around Yohji's neck, taking the kiss long, flicking the tip of his tongue playfully against Yohji's lower lip.

"Hey," Yohji breathed, softly. "Sorry I wasn't here when you woke."

"Doesn't matter," said Ran, wryly, "I heard you."

Yohji shrugged happily. "I got food," he said. "You're not going to give me any trouble, are you? You know you need to eat something?"

"Yes." Ran seemed to have developed a new smile, slightly lopsided, and with a trace of pure wickedness that made Yohji feel strangely powerless. "I'm starving."

Yohji smiled back, unbelievably happy that Ran actually wanted to eat, and a little smug that he'd had a part to play in bringing about this change of affairs. "I made tea, too," he said, proudly.

"That's kind," said Ran, diplomatically. Yohji was a coffee drinker, and in Ran's experience they tended to make bad tea. But it was the thought that counted, after all.

"There wasn't a lot in the cupboard," said Yohji. "Fruit, mostly. And I stole some of Aya-chan's ice cream. She won't mind."

A cloud crossed Ran's face. "She mustn't know," he said, panic in his voice.

"It's only ice cream," said Yohji, "she probably won't even notice it's gone, we can get her some more tomorrow…"

"No, not the ice cream," said Ran, impatiently, "us. She mustn't know about … this."

"Oh." Yohji stuck his cigarette back in his mouth and pulled his lighter out of his pocket. "Why? Do you think she'll mind?"

"She'd hate me," said Ran, darkly. "She wouldn't understand."

Yohji lit his cigarette, blowing out the first smoke over his shoulder, away from Ran. "Are you sure?"

"Yes," said Ran. "Please, don't tell her."

"Okay. Whatever you say. But, just for the record, I think you're wrong."

"I can't take the risk," said Ran, unhappily. "She wanted me to be with Sakura, you know."

"I think she gave up on that one when Sakura got on the plane," said Yohji. "But it's okay." He grinned. "I like the idea of sneaking about in secret. It'll be fun."

"Oh," said Ran. "Good. So that means…"

His unspoken question hung in the air between them for the briefest of moments, while Yohji dragged on his cigarette, holding Ran's eyes with his.

"This is just the beginning," he said, finally, firmly. "Secret or otherwise, I don't care. So long as you still want me."

"Oh, yes," said Ran, with such conviction he surprised himself. "And you're sure you don't mind, about keeping it from the others?"

"Like I said," Yohji twisted round to pick up the ashtray. "It'll be fun. So long as it's not just that you're ashamed of me," he teased.

"No more than usual," Ran replied, dryly. "Did you say there was tea?"

"On the tray," Yohji waved his cigarette in the general direction of the dresser. "I'd get it for you," he turned to Ran with a look that was playful, but at the same time stirringly intense, "but I want to see you naked."

Ran blinked. This was going to take some getting used to. "Hn. Well, if you're forcing me to get out of bed…" Ran swung his legs over the side of the bed and emerged, pale and beautiful, from the covers. "I need a wash." To Yohji's disappointment he retrieved his jeans from under the bedclothes, and pulled them over long legs, buttoning carefully over sensitive skin.

Yohji leaned back against the heavy headboard; Ran was a joy to watch, naked or otherwise, as he stretched and ran his fingers through scarlet tangles, his eyes closing for a second or two in a passing moment of sensual ease with his own body. Yohji was aware of his heart thumping, and his cock stirring lazily in the confines of his clothing.

Once Ran had slipped wordlessly out of the door, Yohji slid one hand into his pants to readjust his hardening cock, unable to resist a few strokes, his mind almost painfully full of the memory of Ran's touch, his kisses, the way his whole body had stretched rigid when he came… Yohji started at the sound of the door opening when Ran returned, snatching his fingers guiltily out of his jeans.

Ran looked quizzically at him. "You alright?" he asked. "You look kind of…"

"I'm fine," said Yohji, quickly. "You do things to me, that's all. Bring that tray over here," he busied himself with putting out his cigarette, trying to get his body back under control - for now, at least.

Ran fetched the tray and settled it on a level patch of bed. Yohji had found an odd but pleasing assortment of items, including a bowl of the strawberries he grew himself all year round in the greenhouse; the only thing, as far as Ran could recall, that Yohji _did_ grow. He settled comfortably on the bed, one knee brushing Yohji's thigh, and drank his tea. Slightly cool, but actually not too bad...

Yohji watched him from under half-hooded eyes, drinking in the elegant curves and angles of Ran's body, the easy fold of his limbs, the soft shadows his hair cast over his face. He stretched out one arm, draping it over Ran's knee.

"Eat," he said, softly, teasing circles over Ran's denim-clad thigh. "And give me a strawberry," he added, as an afterthought.

Ran passed him the bowl, helping himself at the same time. Yohji watched, barely breathing, as Ran slipped the fruit between tea-warmed lips, the barest tip of his tongue flicking out to welcome it.

Oh God.

"Sure you're alright, Yohji?"

"What? Oh, yes, fine." Yohji popped his own strawberry into his mouth, hardly tasting it, his mind so wrapped up in the pure sensuality of watching Ran eat. "Better than Omi's soup, huh?" he managed.

"Hai," Ran agreed, watching Yohji's fingers as they brushed his leg, aware that he was willing them to move higher. Yohji noticed, but held himself in check, determined to make sure Ran attended to the hunger in his belly before he allowed himself to be tempted by any of his other appetites. Which wasn't easy, watching him put food into his soft mouth with the careful fingers that had so recently been giving Yohji such glorious attention. Even watching Ran peel an orange turned out to be an intensely sexual experience; long slender fingers penetrating the skin with perfect control, piercing it without bruising the delicate fruit underneath and stripping it off, section by section; pushing one finger firmly into the centre where all the segments joined, wiggling just a little, pulling them apart…

"Want some?"

Yohji blinked up at Ran, waiting for his brain to process.

"It's good," Ran encouraged. "They're really sweet at this time of year."

"Thanks," Yohji squeaked, accepting the sticky fruit. "Yes," he added, a little helplessly.

Ran observed him thoughtfully, finishing the orange and licking sticky fingers. His body was rewarding him for finally listening to its needs with a fructose rush that made his skin tingle. Or it might have just been the touch of Yohji's hand on his thigh; either way, Ran felt very good. He licked the last of the orange juice off his index finger, and suddenly became aware of the intense heat in Yohji's eyes.

He felt his body answer that look with a heat of its own, rushing up his spine and flooding him with desire, fervent and instant. Yohji saw it, and pulled Ran's hand to his mouth with a groan, kissing his palm wetly before sucking Ran's fingers between his lips.

"Get those jeans off," Yohji mumbled incoherently, rolling Ran's sensitive fingertips over his tongue, "now."

Ran obediently started to unbutton, one handed until Yohji finally released his fingers. His pants were swiftly dispatched, while Yohji put the tray on the floor. "Lie down," Yohji instructed, retrieving the half-full bowl of strawberries.

Ran lowered himself back onto the bed, his whole body responding directly to the hunger in Yohji's eyes. He pulled Yohji's head down for a kiss, tasting more of oranges than cigarettes this time; then Yohji's tongue was sliding smoothly into his mouth, his hands were stroking him from ribs to waist. Ran realised he was breathing hard, willing Yohji to move his hands lower, to touch him again… but Yohji pulled back, leaving one hand on Ran's hip, the other gone... Ran's eyes slowly opened.

Yohji knelt next to him, shirtless, jeans half undone, hair ragged around his face and skimming his shoulders, so sexy that Ran's cock throbbed just from looking at him, and his body arched as if he were being touched.

Yohji held a handful of strawberries cupped in his palm, and regarded Ran's naked body thoughtfully.

"You know why I grow these?" he asked, unexpectedly, rolling the soft fruit carefully in his hand, "even in the summer, when you can buy them by the truckload for next to nothing?"

Ran shook his head, mute.

"They're European," Yohji explained, "they're bigger than ours, and if you grow them just right they're sweeter, and juicier. But the best thing," he lowered his hand slowly until it was hovering no more than an inch above Ran's rock-hard sex, "is that when they're ripe they get really soft, so you can do… this…" he closed his fist around the strawberries, crushing them in his wire-strong palm, juice and flesh squeezing out to coat Ran's erection. Ran could only hold his breath, eyes wide, as Yohji stroked strawberry into his aching flesh, slick and sticky.

Yohji smiled at him, holding his gaze as he moved slowly back, straddling his thighs. Then he was leaning over, his lips softly parted, and…

_Oh God. _That felt so good. Almost too good; his skin was so sensitive and…

Ran watched, motionless, as Yohji's tongue licked his straining cock, from root to tip in one wide, firm lick, scooping a line through the strawberry coating before swirling around the head and leaving a tiny kiss… then Yohji was licking his lips, smeared with strawberry juice, before lowering his head again for another lick… the feeling was so intense that Ran blanked out for a second; the next thing he knew Yohji was gripping the head of his cock in firm lips; and then he was sliding his mouth steadily over the length of it, tongue bathing as he went. Ran clasped his fingers in Yohji's hair, breathless and completely powerless, his balls clenching tight into his body... Yohji paused halfway and looked up at Ran through long eyelashes, but just when Ran thought he might be able to get back some kind of control after all, Yohji slowly and dangerously began to slide his mouth further down, starting, ever so gently, to suck...

"Oh, God, Yohji… Yohji, I can't, I'm going to… oh, fuck, Yohji…" and it was too late, he was lost completely, spurting wave after wave into Yohji's hot, wet mouth, his head thrown back, hips bucking helplessly in Yohji's grasp.

Yohji suppressed a cough, taken unusually by surprise, and swallowed, gently licking sweet flesh clean as Ran lay panting, chest heaving, his fingers still tangled in Yohji's bangs. After a while Ran started to twitch at his touch, sensitive skin turned ticklish, and Yohji let his softening cock fall gently from his mouth.

Ran's eyes flickered open, a painful mixture of distress and bliss in his violet gaze.

Yohji scooted up the bed, combing crimson locks back from Ran's face, smiling at him.

"God, Yohji, I'm sorry, I…"

Yohji tipped his head to one side, still smiling. "What the fuck for?" he asked, softly.

"It's… I… and… you didn't get much warning," Ran tried, his brain trying to navigate a combination of embarrassment and afterglow that were conspiring to render him completely inarticulate.

"Not a problem," Yohji reassured, casually, but Ran looked unconvinced. "You taste _good_," he explained, with a soft brush of his lips to Ran's for emphasis, "especially," green eyes twinkling, "with strawberry sauce."

Ran looked at Yohji for a minute, completely dumbstruck, and then made a noise somewhere in the back of his throat that might even have been a laugh. Close enough that Yohji felt able to join in, chuckling to himself as he left Ran with a kiss to his forehead, and rolled over to the edge of the bed, clanking about with whatever was on the tray.

Ran slowly raised himself up on his elbow. "What you looking for?" he asked, still feeling a little dazed.

"Spoons," explained Yohji, "for the ice cream… oh, here we go."

"Won't it be melted?"

"Only a little," Yohji pulled himself back to sitting, peeling the top off the carton. "I borrowed the vanilla," he said, scraping the inside of the lid with a spoon, "I figured she might need the chocolate. You know how women are about chocolate."

"Hn. How could I forget?"

"Oh, yes," Yohji grinned, "I remember. Manx and the evil vending machine mission."

"Yes. Well."

"She was very scary. And I'm sure it _was_ an evil vending machine. Definitely needed its tomorrows denying."

"She was frightening Omi," said Ran. "I had to do something."

"You did the right thing," Yohji tunnelled his spoon into the ice cream, "there's no telling what would have happened if she hadn't got some kind of chocolate into her system."

Ran sighed, deep enough that Yohji's spoon stopped chiselling for a moment. "I miss her," said Ran, softly. "I wish…"

"I know. But we couldn't… there was nothing we could do."

"Aya-chan misses her too, I know… there aren't enough women in her life. Is it right for her, really, stuck here with a load of men?"

"And every one of us complete screw-ups?" Yohji watched Ran carefully, but his expression didn't change. "It's not exactly a normal family, I'll give you that."

"She deserves better," Ran pulled himself to sitting, his shoulders hunching a little.

"Yes," Yohji agreed, "she deserves to have her parents, and a nice house, and empty headed friends who agree with her all the time because she's pretty… but she doesn't mind, you know, Ran. She's got the thing that means more to her than anything in the world. She's got _you_."

Ran shook his head, drawing his knees up towards his chin, rubbing his forehead slowly across his knees as if scratching an itch. "But if she really knew…"

"Never mind all that. What you want to share and what you want to keep secret is up to you, but remember this. A lot of girls go though life without having a fraction of the love you give to Aya. Never mind the fact that you saved her life more than once, gave up your whole existence for her for years, or that you keep her fed and warm and in school. Ran, she may live without female company, in a flower shop with a mysterious basement, but she's got plenty of love and protection."

"It means a lot to me," Ran raised his head to look at Yohji, "that you care so much for her."

"Of course I do. We all do, me, Omi, Ken… how could we not?"

"Hai."

"We may be a bunch of crazy assassins who steal her ice cream, but she'll be alright with us. Oh, and that reminds me, ice cream." He passed Ran a spoon and offered him the carton.

"Thanks." Ran delicately scooped out a spoonful.

"See, not too melted," Yohji said between mouthfuls, "and, oh, heaven. I love ice cream."

"I like it melted," said Ran, unexpectedly. Ran rarely stated food preferences; he either ate what he needed to, or didn't, without much discussion. "Just a bit. Sort of soft."

"Mmm," Yohji licked his spoon, "not too cold."

"God, your tongue…" murmured Ran.

Yohji froze in mid lick. "What?"

Ran shook his head, trying to regain some composure. "Sorry, just… it's sexy. Your tongue."

Yohji grinned. "Glad you noticed," he said. "So's yours," he added.

"Mine?" Ran seemed to find this incomprehensible.

"Uhuh. You do that thing with it."

"What thing?"

"When you're concentrating. You kind of run it over your teeth."

"Do I?"

"Yep. Very sexy. Here," Yohji tilted the carton towards him again, "have some more, before I eat it all."

Ran looked at him, contemplatively.

"I've got an idea," he said. "Why don't you lie down and let me take your jeans off?"

Yohji dropped his spoon. "Yes," he said, quickly, as if afraid the offer might be withdrawn, and let Ran take the ice cream from him before gently pushing him back onto the bed. Before Yohji had a chance to wonder what he might have in mind, Ran was kissing him, chasing reason from his mind, and stroking down his chest to his belly, opening the last few buttons of his jeans with ease. Yohji helpfully raised his hips to make it easy for Ran to dispense with his clothing, and settled back with a groan as Ran straddled him, sitting across his thighs and reaching for the ice cream.

"This might be cold," he warned, a decidedly wicked look on his face. He produced a spoonful of ice cream, and dropped it tantalisingly slowly, over Yohji's right nipple. Yohji yelped; it _was_ cold, but once the shock wore off a little he was just aware of his flesh puckering and becoming incredibly sensitive; then Ran's firm little pink tongue was licking the ice cream away, flicking at Yohji's bullet-hard nipple. Just when he was relaxing into Ran's caress he felt the other nipple assaulted with soft, cold wetness, and when Ran had licked that one clean he returned to the first, a continual barrage of hot and cold that brought Yohji's senses into sharp focus.

Then Ran was sitting back, stirring the spoon in the tub.

And watching Yohji's cock.

Yohji gasped, his cock twitching a little as if acknowledging Ran's gaze.

"It might be a bit cold, is that all right?" he asked, a little tentative.

Yohji just nodded, and waited for the icy assault against his sensitive flesh. But it didn't come, at least, not at first. Ran reached out his hand first, enveloping Yohji's hardness in a loose fist and stroking him a few times. Just as Yohji was starting to settle into the rhythm of his touch, however, Ran paused, pulling down towards the base one more time, leaving the sensitive head of Yohji's cock fully exposed, flaring purple and smeared with glistening precome. Then Yohji heard spoon scraping in tub, and opened his eyes just as Ran dropped a large blob of ice cream onto his weeping erection.

Yohji let out a guttural cry at the sudden cold, and again as Ran hooded the protesting flesh, warming now, slick with creamy melt; then he watched as Ran lowered his head, the tip of his tongue thrust between his lips, towards Yohji's sex.

He mustered all the willpower he could to keep still, fists clenching around the sheets beneath him as he watched Ran's agonisingly slow progress. And then he felt the soft, wet tip of Ran's tongue probing protective skin, licking cautiously around the most sensitive parts of his flesh, all the while holding the root of his cock in his wonderfully firm, swordsman's grip.

"Oh fuck, Ran… " Yohji desperately wanted Ran to take him fully in his mouth, to swallow him whole and fuck him with those soft pink lips, but it was too soon… he had to take this slow… "Ran, oh, God that's good…" Yohji found Ran's thigh and squeezed gently, "… that's too good… come here…"

Ran raised his head, "is that OK?" he asked, almost apologetically.

"Yes," Yohji reassured him, "oh, God, yes. I just want to hold you. Come here."

Ran gave Yohji's cock a last kiss and slid gracefully back to Yohji's side, his own hardness pressing into the firm flesh of Yohji's thigh on the way. Yohji rolled over, pulled him close and kissed him, tasting strawberries and ice cream and himself. Ran was pushing against him rhythmically, hardness against hardness, breathless.

"Here," Yohji took Ran's hands in his, and guided them between their bodies. "You take the top, and I'll take the bottom." He wrapped Ran's fingers around the heads of both their cocks, while he gripped them at the root. "Now, look at me. Try not to close your eyes, until you have to."

Green gaze locked violet, as firm hands moved together, hips rocking, breath coming hard and fast. It was easy, Yohji realised, easier than it had ever been with anyone. They didn't have to try to fit each others' rhythm, or to work out what the other wanted; all the years of fighting and killing and just plain living with each other meant that they just knew. There was no clash of purpose or desire, no struggle. Just clean, synchronised strokes, fluid and hard and perfect.

Ran's eyes fluttered shut a second before Yohji's, not arching back this time but snapping his head to Yohji's shoulder, clamping his mouth around his flesh; his first spurt hit Yohji's chest, all the signal Yohji needed to let go of any control he had left. He roared his release, coming into the tight press of their bodies, a tangled rope of heated flesh.

"Yohji." A sated sigh, as Ran folded his sticky arms around Yohji's body, seeking his mouth for a soft, lazy kiss. Then he flopped contentedly onto his back.

"Hn," Yohji grunted, already called by sleep. "Hold me," he murmured, reaching for the quilt. Ran cuddled him into his side and helped pull the quilt over them both. "Showerinaminute," he mumbled, as he slipped slowly into dreams


	7. Chapter 7

### Chapter 7

Ran dozed for what must have been moments only, startling awake to an ooze of half-melted icecream running over the ticklish skin below his ribs. He shuddered, smoothing the liquid stuff down so it at least wouldn't move. Icecream pressed into his skin, he raised sticky fingers, staring at them contemplatively for a long moment, his tongue finally flickering out to taste the sweet mingled with Yohji's come.

Yohji grunted, an arm tightening around Ran's shoulders. Possessive. Not moving away. And slowly, as Ran watched, his eyes flickered open, a lazy smile spreading over his face.

"Fuck," he said, sleepily.

Ran felt a smile forming in return, and out of some unknown instinct he leaned down and brushed a strand of hair out of Yohji's eyes.

"Again?" he asked, gently teasing, following the trail of his hand with a kiss.

Yohji's smile flashed bigger, then his lips brushed over Ran's. "Don't make promises you can't keep," he whispered, voice low and husky, hand skimming down Ran's spine to rest on one hip. His eyes flickered over Ran's face, and he smiled again. "I can't believe I've got you here in my bed," he confessed with sleep-driven honesty. "I'm not dreaming, am I?"

Ran's brows lowered, a hollow reality settling in his breast but he forced a smile, fairly obviously forced a smile and said, "I hope not." The smile faltered, never strong to begin with, and he glanced away.

"Hey, stop that," murmured Yohji, something inside him clenching at Ran's vulnerability. He threaded his fingers through strands of scarlet hair and brushed Ran's lips with his again, stroked noses. "I don't mind lying to everyone else." He nipped at Ran's lower lip, enjoying the involuntary gasp that resulted. "But I won't lie to you. I want you here."

"You want me here," Ran repeated softly, returning Yohji's kiss until the hollow feeling faded and then vanished, only then drawing back to examine Yohji's expression. He nodded to himself, as though confirming something, and entirely unaware that he was grinning breathed "I want to be here, too." The grin curled a bit. "And speaking of promises ..."

"Shower first," said Yohji. "You're all sticky." He spread his palm over Ran's belly, just above the healing scar, and rubbed.

Ran shuddered at the touch, catching Yohji's hand and scowling up at him, hopefully with enough humor in his eyes or in the tiny, stifled, irreppressible smile that the other man - no, that his lover knew that he was teasing. "Not as sticky as some."

"You put it there," Yohji said, with a purr in his voice. "You'd better clean it off."

Ran's tongue flickered out to wet his lips on a thought. "I can do that." He looked pointedly to the dried come on his own belly, streaked white below the fresh scar. "Can you?"

Yohji flexed his arm, still caught securely in Ran's grip, wanting to touch, but Ran wasn't relinquishing control so easily. He would have liked to wrestle some, but he was all too aware of Ran's fragility. Too soon, too recently speared on Schion's blade.

"Shower," he said, and rolled away, off the bed, tugging Ran after him.

Ran scrambled up after him, feeling ridiculously accomplished for having achieved some kind of response. Yohji's hand was warm in his, and Ran followed him into the bath readily, loose-limbed and content in a way he hadn't been since, well, in a long time.

Yohji wasted no time in turning on the water. The chill outside of his cosy room was like a slap in the face, and would have crushed his libido in an instant if it hadn't been for the sight of Ran, shivering and not caring, looking at him with a heat in his eyes that Yohji had never seen in anyone before. No-one. Ever.

It was luck rather than judgement that the water was warm enough when Yohji stepped backwards under the spray, pulling Ran with him, into his arms, warm-wet and still-sticky and shivering.

Ran started at the first spray of water, a full-body shiver that tugged at the healing wound below his ribs, and he stepped further under the warmth into Yohji's arms. He held Yohji's shoulders carefully in his hands, felt that care returned, rested his cheek against Yohji's neck for a moment. "Soap?" He asked quietly, not moving or showing any willingness to move.

"In a minute." Yohji's voice was tight, the touch of Ran's skin on his forcing his eyes to shut, his body to stand completely still, savouring the contact. He kissed Ran's hair, already slick with water, and a whimper escaped from somewhere deep inside of him.

"Now?" Ran panted, pressing all against the slick length of Yohji's lean-muscled body, stroking the lines of his back and moving against the cock hard against his belly and not meaning the soap, forcing out another needy little plea that would probably be embarrassing upon reflection. "Again?"

Yohji made a little groaning sound, and kissed him, deep, breathtaking. "God, Ran, when you... oh God. You're so..." And clever fingers eased between their bodies to find hard flesh. Ran sucked in a surprised breath, looking up blindly at Yohji's passion-closed eyes, the strong fingers on his cock overwhelming the pain and the soreness and the doubt. Should be surprising that he could want Yohji this much, that Yohji could want him back. But he did. Undeniably. His breath was short already, his grip sure, and his own cock was pressing relentlessly against Ran's thigh.

"This is heaven," Yohji murmured into Aya's hair. "Let's just do this forever."

And then there was the sound of a door slamming. A girlish giggle from somewhere downstairs.

"Aya," Ran moaned on a shocked breath, jerking back, almost slipping on the tile. Strong hands caught him by the arms, and he looked up into Yohji's eyes, searching for reassurance or an answer or anything really to counter the sudden rush of fear.

"Steady," said Yohji. "It's okay, I locked the door." He planted a kiss on Ran's forehead, tugged him close again. "Just stay quiet until they've gone to bed."

"Quiet," he murmured. "It's that late? They'll just go to bed?" He smiled softly, relaxing against Yohji's water-slick body. "We could go to bed, after," he glanced away, a smile twitching at the corners of his mouth. "After we get something to eat."

Yohji wrapped his arms firmly around Ran, drawing him close. Safe. Not about to escape. Pressing his lips to Ran's forehead, eyes closed. Marvelling at how the notion of Ran expressing hunger - any sort of hunger - set butterflies fluttering in his belly. "Eating sounds good," he murmured, and twitched his hips to let his cock bounce once against Ran's before he pressed their hips together.

"Eating?" Aya forgotten, almost, Ran smiled, feeling almost playful with the flex of Yohji's cock against his own. "This is teasing, right? You mean, not really eating," he continued, almost gasping at the wet-slick hard feeling of Yohji moving against him, all flirting muscles and smiles as Ran attempted seduction. "Not eating, but," and drew his fingers down Yohji's length, shivering himself at the feel.

"That's right," Yohji gasped. "Only I'm not sure how much more teasing I can take." And he kissed Ran hard, only just remembering in time he was a little too fragile to slam against the tile. And it excited him, Yohji realised, that fragility. It fitted with the almost coy, playful side of Ran he was seeing for the first time, and it made the hard core of the man that Yohji knew all too well a little less daunting. Underneath the cold ruthlessness of Abyssinian was the boy who had been left behind the night Takatori Reiji stole his life, and Yohji felt as though he was resurrecting him, bit by bit, peeling back the layers of guilt and pain and killing, to find the real Ran underneath.

He ran his hands down the goosebumped flesh of Ran's back to cup his ass in his palms. It was all he could do to remember to breathe.

"Not teasing," Ran breathed, pressing desperately against Yohji, the hands on his ass new and all the more exciting for it and he mirrored the hold, sliding katana-rough hands down the smooth back to cup and squeeze smooth flesh. "Not really. Not teasing." He laughed, just a soft little sound all the more earned by Yohji's returning grin. "I intend to deliver."

"Glad to hear it," said Yohji, licking his lips, looking more wolfish than ever. "What is it you're planning on delivering, exactly?" His eyes dipped down for a delicious glance at Ran's cock, the pink tip just visible, sandwiched between their bellies and nestling against his own.

"Oh, I," Ran paused, eyelids fluttering almost closed against the sudden slide of Yohji's cock against his own. "Deliver, something, I don't," and his arms slid up to cling to Yohji's shoulders, his knees giving out and his words stuttering to a halt. "Anything?"

"How about this?" Yohji curled his fingers around Ran's erection and gently rubbed it over his own again, stealing a kiss at the same time. Then he pulled back, checking Ran was okay, before he sank to his knees, still aware that this was all new and desperately afraid of pushing his luck.

But he wanted Ran so much it hurt, and the little gasp that escaped from his throat when Yohji brushed his tongue over the head of his cock sent a shiver straight down his spine. "You're so hot," Yohji breathed. "So damn hot."

"You," Ran breathed, staring down almost unbelieving. "Fucking incredible," before his head slammed back and his hips arched forward, his hands tangling in Yohji's hair without conscious thought. Yohji's lips moved against the soft skin, his mouth opening to actually take Ran inside, Ran biting back moans until his lip bled as he slid into Yohji's mouth.

Yohji swallowed a chuckle as he sucked Ran's cock deeper, running his hands over the smooth curves of his ass, fingertips just grazing the crack in between. Pulling Ran closer then pushing him back, just a little, encouraging him to fuck. The thick, pulsing flesh in his mouth tasted good; drops of sweet precome forming at the tip to be licked up at the end of each stroke.

He let it fall from his mouth, nuzzled it briefly and looked up. "Do it fast, if you like. I can take it."

He took the head of Ran's eager cock into his mouth again, and his fingers resumed their explorations.

He could feel Yohji's tongue slipping beneath and between the delicate folds of his foreskin, could feel the head of his cock sliding against the slick sides of Yohji's hollowing mouth. His eyes rolled back in his head at Yohji's words, and his hips flexed irresistibly faster until it was all hot and wet and the falling water and Yohji's silk-sleek hair. "Please," he managed, slipped into Yohji's throat, nearly passed out at the feeling.

Yohji tilted the angle and swallowed him down, closing his eyes as his nose brushed soft, wet curls to better feel the thick heat in his mouth and throat. Relishing the feeling as Ran moved, unable to resist running his fingers along the smooth skin between Ran's balls and his ass, holding his breath to test Ran's reaction as he swirled his fingertip around the soft, puckered entrance to his body.

Ran went up on his toes, pleasure crackling through him like a live current, his fingers tightening in Yohji's hair not to caress but to hold him in place as he felt his release building from his rigid extremities like a diffuse and painless trembling. "Yohji, I," he breathed, but he felt the tightening, his fingers spasmed on Yohji's skull, gripped in his flexing jaw, and he came wondering down Yohji's throat.

Yohji coughed at the first pulse, fought Aya's grip just enough to pull his head back so he didn't choke. Took the next couple of spurts on his tongue, then tipped his face up, until the head of Aya's cock rested on his lower lip, spilling over his nose and cheeks and open mouth.

Ran sobbed in a breath, consciously gentling his fingers in Yohji's hair, petting it a little as he sagged against the wall. "Sorry," he gasped, smiling a little helplessly as he drew Yohji to his feet.

"No problem." Yohji licked his lips and dodged his hair under the spray, water slicking his hair against his skull and dripping down nose and chin. Then he opened his eyes, squinted at Aya through the drips and smiled back. "You look happy," he said. Smugly.

"Yeah," Ran said thoughtfully, feeling the grin broaden without really meaning for it to. "And you look like the proverbial cat." He slid one hand to Yohji's hip, grasping his cock with the other just hard enough to make him gasp. And grinning, a bit wickedly, "Does that make me the canary?"

"Miaow," said Yohji, thrusting into Ran's fist. "Can't you see the feathers?" God, but he could get used to this. He was going to have a stupid grin plastered on his face for a week; it was going to be hard to explain it away if they were to keep this secret.

And they must. Somewhere deep inside Yohji was absolutely certain that if Aya-chan found out that would be the end. However happy Ran looked right now.

And he looked very, very happy.

Yohji looked happy, really happy like he hadn't in years, and Ran couldn't stop the grin forming over a sudden twinge of melancholy that Yohji's happiness relied on him. "I don't know," he said absently, voice almost inaudible beneath the rush of the shower. Yohji could rely on him. "Maybe I should do a full-body search." He could make Yohji happy. "Just in case." Sliding easily to his knees, hands anchoring him at Yohji's glass-sharp hipbones and he knew he could make Yohji happy. He could.

"You don't have to," said Yohji, probably because he meant it, but no doubt hoping Ran would do it just the same. His hands rested gently on Ran's shoulders, thumbs stroking the usually-tense muscles up the sides of his neck. Not tense now. Lax and warm and working as he watched Ran's head duck down.

Ran let Yohji's words wash over him like a reassurance. He really did have to do this. For himself if no one else, and he licked his lips curiously as he leant in to Yohji's cock, the tip leaking desperately and he nuzzled the silk-soft skin just to hear Yohji moan.

It worked like a charm. Yohji didn't just moan. He whimpered. He stumbled slightly, his knees suddenly weak. "Oh," he murmured. "Oh, Ran, god..."

Ran tightened his grasp on Yohji's hips, steadying the taller man and feeling a burst of inordinate pride that he'd done this. Riding the feeling, he guided Yohji back to lean against the tiled wall, took a steadying breath, and took just the head of Yohji's cock into his mouth.

"Oh," Yohji gasped. "You're so... you look so... oh..." He curled the fingers of one hand into a loose fist, and stroked Ran's hair gently with his knuckles, transfixed by the sight of his cock disappearing between Ran's pink, slightly swollen lips.

Yohji was so still, his hips tense and his fingers careful and Ran felt an almost painful burst of tenderness or gratitude or something less certain. He would have smiled at Yohji's words. Instead taking Yohji a bit deeper, feeling the weeping head of Yohji's cock slide against his tongue and swallowing the bitter-salt liquid.

"You don't have to take it all the way," said Yohji, his voice coming out as a strangled whisper. "Not this time. Just... oh..." The rasp of Aya's tongue over his sensitive flesh was just the right side of too much, and suddenly Yohji couldn't think any more.

Yohji tensed beneath Ran's tongue, beneath his hands, and he encouraged the slight movement that followed, not certain he wanted Yohji to lose this unaccustomed control. But Yohji was alive, writhing against him and suddenly he wanted it to happen, wanted Yohji to lose that control and treat him like, like a lover, wanted him to thrust and maybe even scream because of him.

"Suck," said Yohji, one hand cupping the base of Ran's skull, the other wrapping around the root of his cock, feeding it into Ran's mouth. "Oh God, Ran... you look so... oh..."

Yohji's words knifed through him, and he hollowed his cheeks in his effort to win a repeat of that sound. He was hard again, Yohji's hands in his hair in an unconscious reversal of their earlier position that he was all too aware of as he reluctantly removed one hand from Yohji's hip and wrapped it around his own pulsing erection.

"Oh God." Yohji watched Ran's lips brush his knuckles, but he didn't let go. That was enough, for now. He didn't have enough rational thought left to teach Ran how to deep throat him, and anyway, it was already more than he could bear, just watching Ran suck him like that, touching himself, looking so heartbreakingly beautiful. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck..."

Yohji was chanting above him (low cigarette-husky voice), the water steady and strong on his back spattering Yohji's thighs and he kissed Yohji's knuckles wrapped white-taut around the base of his cock as the long muscles in his legs locked and spasmed a little and the low muttered words turned into a soft wail. Ran quickened the pace of his other hand, almost desperate in his movements as though he could sense the approaching end. Arching up and swallowing convulsively around Yohji’s cock as he came again, almost too soon, sobbing against Yohji’s knuckles as the other man petted and stroked at his hair.

"I'm gonna come," Yohji warned, pulling back a little. Not wanting to give Ran any nasty surprises. Still not quite able to believe this was happening, and not wanting to do anything that would make it go wrong. "You don't... have to..."

Ran almost missed the words, absorbed in his own thrumming after-pleasure and the salt-slick skin beneath his tongue, but caught the first pulse of Yohji's cock, pulling back with an almost comical sense of his own surprise, come splattering against his lips and one cheek when he turned his head, laughing helplessly, inexplicably happy about the entire thing.

"Close your eyes," gasped Yohji, and let out a chuckle himself as he striped the other cheek, the sight of his come on Ran's skin as erotic as his startled expression had been funny. Enough to turn the lust pumping through Yohji's body into joy, as stroked Ran's sperm-sticky hair.

Ran squeezed his eyes shut obediently, leaning forward to prop his forehead against Yohji's thighs just beside his softening cock. Yohji's hands slowed in his hair, and Ran was still smiling, Yohji sticky on his skin and a helpless grin stretching his lips.

"I don't think I've ever got so dirty in the shower before," said Yohji, still short of breath, pulling Ran carefully to his feet, mindful of his injury even now. "Come here."

Ran allowed himself to be pulled to his feet, to be enfolded in Yohji's arms so that he could hide in the crook of Yohji's shoulder. He felt unaccountably nervous, and pressed closer as Yohji moved to wash the both of them. Was that okay? he wanted to ask, but remained silent as Yohji ran a soaped cloth down his back and to his shoulders in a circling, comforting motion.

Yohji caught a glimpse of Ran's face as he washed him: he didn't look entirely happy, and his usual guarded expression was creeping back. Too soon. "Are you okay?" he whispered, and kissed the slick wet of Ran's shoulder.

Ran closed his eyes, tightened his arms around Yohji's too-thin ribs to feel the sleek skin and muscle. "Yes," he said softly, voice muffled by the water. "You?" But Yohji was concerned for him, and he felt an inevitable smile forming.

"Fine," said Yohji. And then, "I can usually last longer than that. Just so you know. It's just that you're," and he ran his tongue around the curve of Ran's ear, voice turning to whisper, "irresistible."

Ran grinned, suddenly happier than he'd been in years if only for the presence of this strange, self-aggrandizing man. "I believe you," Ran said, the reassurance a welcome unfamiliarity on his tongue. "We weren't trying for a marathon anyway, were we?"

"No," said Yohji. "Not this time. Tonight we do the sprinting. Tomorrow night," and he licked Ran's ear again, enjoying the shiver it sent through Ran's lean body, "we go for the stamina events."

Ran moaned, shivered, Yohji's words surprising a quick bark of laughter that was swallowed almost immediately by Yohji's mouth. Ran leaned into the kiss, boneless against Yohji's strength as water ran in runnels down his sides and belly. "We should get dried off," he panted when released, staring up bemusedly at Yohji's broad grin.

"Sure," said Yohji. The grin faded, then, and Yohji's eyes focused on Ran's, huge and green, alarmingly intense to anyone who didn't know him as well as Ran did. "I'm serious about this, Ran. I'm not fucking you around. Just... so's you know."

"I know you aren't," Ran said, as serious, unable to look away even though he felt exposed, oddly vulnerable but then he'd never grown accustomed to admitting how he felt. "Neither am I. Fucking around, I mean."

Yohji kissed him, a soft brush of lips and tongue, and folded his arms around him, nuzzling into his hair.

"I want to take you somewhere," he murmured. "Tomorrow. We could sneak off to the mountains. Tell them it's part of your convalescence."

"Now you're being ridiculous," Ran said immediately, smiling crookedly up at Yohji. This was fun, the banter, the lightheartedness of it. He'd never thought love could be anything but painful. "This is fun," he repeated aloud, brushing the fingers of his right hand over Yohji's cold-raised nipple.

Yohji gasped. "Tickles!" And then he laughed, pressing himself closer so there was no room for Ran to get up to any further mischief of the tickling kind. And once he was that close it was inevitable that they'd kiss; soft, warm, light kisses. "Definitely fun," Yohji husked. "But cold. And I'm starving."

"We never did get dinner," Ran mused, content to remain trapped against Yohji's side. "And you promised to feed me, I think."

"Damn right I did." Yohji nuzzled Ran's neck, paused to nibble on one ear, tasting the bright metal of his earring again. "We're out of food, though. And I'm out of cigarettes." He kissed Ran's shoulder, ran his tongue over the ticklish spot at the hollow of his collarbone. "I'll go to the store."

"The store." Ran frowned, possibly sulking though he certainly wouldn't admit it aloud. "I could come with you," he suggested, tone lightening with the pressure of Yohji's lips and teeth.

"You're wet. It's cold out there." Yohji smoothed Aya's hair over his skull. "I'm not going to be responsible for you having a relapse. You wait here. Make some tea or something, I'll be back before you know it."

"I can make tea," Ran conceded. It was cold out there, and he'd been less than tolerant of the cold lately. "Get some noodles? I want to make soup." A weak attempt at flirting, perhaps, but Yohji's hands were warm on his chilled flesh, and he was smiling indulgently as he tended to do whenever feeling especially fond, in a way that usually irritated Ran but just now made him want to curl up beneath a blanket with the man.

"Sure. Noodles. Anything you want. But we need to get out of the shower, before you go blue all over."

And Yohji shuffled him out of the shower into a towel, and then into a too-large, tattered cream sweater that he only wore when feeling fragile anymore. "I wish you wouldn't smoke inside," he murmured from inside the sweater as Yohji's fingers nimbly sorted through a pack, at the same time struggling one-armed into a t-shirt and shaking out his hair. Kudoh was talented, that was certain. Yohji's head emerged only slightly touseled from the tee, the shower-dampened lashes blinking at him innocently.

"So we've been together three hours and already you're nagging me," Yohji complained gently, grinning, not meaning it.

"I'm not nagging, Kudo," Ran growled, swiping at Yohji with one too-long sleeve. "I do not nag." Feeling somehow lighter for the teasing.

"'Course you don't," said Yohji, grinning and catching the ragged hem of the sleeve, trapping Ran's hand inside. "And I can't smoke anyway because I'm fresh out of cigs. So you get your own way after all."

Ran glared at the empty pack dangling from Yohji's hand, feeling a brief surge of vindictive pleasure. Yohji smiled at him hopefully. The feeling passed, and he returned the smile with a reluctant grin. "Smoke if you want, then," he said, tugging on his sleeve idly as if to confirm that he was caught. "Just remember my noodles. And broth, I think we're out."

"Noodles, broth, got it." Yohji brushed his nose across Ran's. "Anything else?"

Ran smiled, shook his head. "Be quick?"

"Oh yes," said Yohji, huskily, giving Ran one last, almost dangerously long kiss before he left.

Ran leaned into the kiss, following Yohji down the stairs almost arm in arm in his reluctance to break the moment. It was just a trip to the shop, not a block away and Yohji could be snake-quick when he needed, but letting go felt wrong, somehow.

"God, if you didn't need feeding so badly..." Yohji gave a reluctant growl as he disentangled himself, and backed slowly out of the kitchen door, blowing Ran a kiss as he went.

Ran smiled in return, watched Yohji grin and take a jaunty turn around the corner of the building. Ran stayed there for a long moment, staring after his lover though he could no longer see him, feeling a strange foreboding shiver up his spine. Yohji would be back.

He latched on to the tea kettle for something to do, oddly focused on the splash of cold tap water, the hiss of the gas stove. Anything to hold his attention. And so he didn't notice when Aya-chan slipped in through the kitchen door.

"Oh! Oniichan, you're up!" Ran started, nearly spilled the tea water. Aya-chan didn't notice, just skipped across the room to wrap her arms around him and hugged him carefully, ever mindful of his wound. "You look better."

"I feel better," Ran smiled, almost compelled by her presence as he settled the tea kettle on the counter and folded her more securely in his arms. He'd been too many years without hugging her to let any opportunity pass by, even if she was being overly-solicitous. "Yohji's gone to the corner store for some things for dinner. Are you hungry?" He winced slightly at Yohji's name, felt himself tense and felt her tense in response, finally stepping back to lean against the counter.

"Hungry? I mean, it's late but, yes, sure. You're hungry?" Her eyes gleamed delight at him. "Really?"

"Well, yes," Ran said slowly. He turned back to pouring out the tea, his fingers skimming nervously over porcelain. "Where did you go tonight?" he asked, perhaps a bit too casually but a distraction felt necessary.

"Oh, nowhere. Just the movies. Saw a film. It was okay. Um, are you okay? You want me to do that? Only you're getting tea all over."

Ran handed over the kettle without looking up from the puddled countertop and his shaking hands. Everything feeling different, him feeling different, sure it must show, she'd notice, and-

"Three cups?" she asked, sloshing tea straight over the first cup, adding to the pool on the counter. Ran blinked at her cautiously. "Oh, yeah, Yohji, of course. So, what have you two been up to then? Because he's really put the colour back in your cheeks, Oniichan."


	8. Chapter 8

### Chapter 8

Yohji almost ran back from the store, pausing only to light one very belated post-coital cigarette. Laden with noodles, ice cream, rice, chocolate (he knew Ran had a weakness for dark chocolate) and a few other bits and pieces that might make a meal, he burst into the kitchen all set to present Ran with his bounty before bending him back over the kitchen table and ravishing him. Or maybe just a hug, Yohji decided. He had to take care, after all, Ran was still recovering...

... and sitting at the table with Aya-chan, who was idly mopping at a pool of tea. Not talking to each other, not even looking at each other, and when Ran raised his eyes to Yohji's there was something there that Yohji didn't like the look of at all.

Yohji was back, and Ran knew that he should greet the man, or at least really meet his eyes. Aya-chan sighed, and Ran felt his shoulders hunch. His stomach felt hollow, and he really wished they'd never left Yohji's room.

"Hey, Princess! Good film?" Yohji wrenched his eyes away from Ran, knowing that if he didn't he'd give too much away.

"It was great," she said, with a bright false smile and without any real enthusiasm. Ran eyed his sister carefully, hunter watching his prey if only the truth would slip out. "What did you get at the store, Yohji-chan? Anything for me?"

Ran stood abruptly, moving to take one of the bags from Yohji's arms. "I'll get started on the noodles," he murmured.

"Isn't it great that Oniichan's got his appetite back?" Aya-chan's smile turned real, and she stuck her nose in the other bag, quickly surveying the contents. "Ooh! You got me ice cream!"

"Of course," said Yohji smoothly. "I think Ken ate yours, so I figured you'd need some more. I know all about girls and ice cream."

Ran's fingers shook, rattling the plastic of the noodle bag. He didn't know if he wanted to laugh or proceed straight to the nervous breakdown. Yohji hadn't gotten the icecream for any reason so innocent.

But Aya-chan gave a little laugh, and touched Yohji's hand, and started spooning sugar into her tea.

Footsteps clattered down the stairs, and Omi appeared.

"Aya-chan, where did you- oh! Yohji-kun... Ran-kun. You're up?"

Yohji kind of laughed, and Ran turned to glare at Omi, fingers tightening on the crinkling plastic and ripping it apart in a swift, assured move. "Came down for something to eat," Ran said flatly, watching Omi never stop watching Aya-chan, as though he didn't think Ran had noticed why the boy had come downstairs.

"Oh, that's great, Ran-kun," said Omi, saucer-eyes brimming with happiness and relief that might have been completely genuine. "I'm so pleased you got your appetite back. We were all so worried-"

"I know." Still angry, or resentful, or he wasn't entirely sure what but couldn't respond any other way to Omi's too-hopeful eyes. "I really am feeling better. You shouldn't worry." Speaking more to Aya-chan now, saw her catch it with a half-hidden grin. Even Yohji seemed to be laughing at him, tolerently and not meaning to hurt, and he snorted (hiding his own smile), turned back to the stove-top.

"You want me to chop some stuff to put in there?" Yohji waggled a paper bag under Ran's nose. "I got chestnuts, and a few secret ingredients..."

His eyes met Ran's for one heated, breathless moment.

Ran looked down quickly, drew in a shaking breath. Aya-chan and Omi were laughing quietly together; they hadn't noticed, he thought. "Secret." Eyes carefully on the slow-boiling water. Yohji's hand brushed his arm, and he nodded.

"Pass me a knife, then," said Yohji.

He'd pulled a carrot out of the bag, his fingers curling suggestively around its slender length as his eyebrows waggled meaningfully at Ran.

Ran nearly choked on a breath, heat flushing through him at the smallest glance toward Yohji's antics, and he was quite certain that Aya-chan and Omi were paying them no mind but couldn't smother the fear. Ran released his end of the knife quickly, nearly too quickly but Yohji managed to catch it by the blade, turning almost wounded eyes on Ran. "Sorry," Ran gasped, aroused and afraid and eyes on counter, couldn't look up again.

"Okay," and Yohji's elbow jostled his, secret reassurance. "Need to work on your reflexes now you're all better."

Ran turned a panicked glare on his (what, friend? lover?) and whispered, "That's not." Bit his lip, swallowed. "Yeah." And now Yohji looked worried, and Ran tried forcing a smile even knowing it would look like a grimace of pain. "I know. Thanks."

"We could, um, do some work together if you like," Yohji offered, and Ran wasn't quite sure whether it was an honest offer, innuendo or a plain-as-day come-on. "Y'know, sparring." With a quick look towards Aya-chan, thankfully mindful of the other secret they had to keep.

Ran took a breath, held it, forced himself to relax into the moment, into Yohji's words and persistent smile. "I could use the exercise," Ran tried, quietly enough that Aya-chan wouldn't hear, glancing over at Yohji from beneath the cover of his fringe.

Yohji melted inside, and wondered why he'd ever thought this might be a bad idea. To have Ran all coy and mischievous and _his_.

"We could firm up a few things," he suggested, with a wink. "Where d'you want the veggies?"

Ran started back on an unexpected rising lust (either going pale or flushing he couldn't tell which) and very carefully looked down at the cutting board. "Um, the vegetables." Definitely blushing. "In the pot?"

"Okay." Yohji deposited the contents of the chopping board neatly in the pan Ran had indicated. "You look a little flushed," he said, his most infuriatingly innocent expression on his face. "The stove getting you a bit hot?"

"The stove, yes," Ran agreed blandly, forcing himself under some kind of control. Couldn't resist glancing at Yohji, sly eyes and a wicked stare, and went immediately back to stirring.

Also couldn't help a small, private grin.

"So, kids, what was the film?" Yohji grabbed a beer from the fridge and sat at the table, heart pounding, fighting hard to resist the urge to grab Ran and dip-kiss him just for the sheer hell of it.

"Great," said Aya-chan, and at the same time Omi pulled a face.

"Ah, the critics are divided on this one." Yohji ripped the tab off his can and took a gulp. "Too romantic for you, Omi-kun?"

"No!" Omi said, a bit too quickly. Ran glanced up from his careful attendance of the boiling water, the beginning of a suspicion niggling the back of his mind as Omi began a tangential ramble on the film's cinematic realism. Ran frowned. Aya looked captivated. Yohji was grinning.

"Sounds like quite a film." Yohji threw Ran a wink. "Maybe we should go. When you feel up to it."

"I," he began, not sure how to answer. He added the noodles to the boiling water, stirring them in with most of his attention. Yohji had asked him. But a movie was like a date, did that mean. Friends went to the movies, but. "Yes." It had to mean more.

Yohji was smiling, asking did he mean it, but something was. A date. Yohji asked him, but.

He dropped the spoon, darting a glare at Omi where he was chattering at Aya-chan.

Yohji leaned back in his chair, popped a cigarette between his lips. "Next week, maybe."

Still glaring at Omi, Ran murmured, "Yes, next week." Realized what he'd agreed to only several moments later, when the pot boiled over. There was something warm in the realization. Making plans. Like it might last. "The noodles are ready," he noted, almost surprised.

"Great," said Yohji. "I'm starving."

"So what have you been doing to work up such an appetite, Yohji-kun?" asked Omi, eyes big and wide and innocent.

Ran dropped in a few more vegetables, very carefully did not listen to Yohji's response. Wondered fiercely if he should've added tofu.

A long few moments passed. Seconds, possibly. Yohji still hadn't said anything. "We've started training," Ran muttered to the stove.

"That run to the shop," said Yohji, almost at the same time and probably louder. "Fresh air." He lit a cigarette, apparently oblivious to the irony of his action. Aya-chan scowled at him and pointedly waved the smoke away.

"But Ran didn't go to the shop, did he?" Omi murmured, at the same time Aya-chan visibly decided to ignore Yohji and said "You're training again, that's great!"

Ran shook his head, sighed.

"Don't over-encourage," said Yohji, suddenly the world export on the handling of Ran. "You know what he's like, if we all notice he's getting better he'll stop."

Yohji knew he'd gone too far, even as the words were coming out of his mouth, but couldn't stop himself. He was bubbling over with excitement, barely restraining himself from yelling to the whole of Tokyo that he was in love with Fujimiya Ran, and it was clouding his reason.

In love?

Yohji poured a generous slug of beer down his throat, and tried to breathe.

Ran's chin lifted with the words, an automatic scowl shaping his lips. He turned around to glare at Yohji, and began to snarl a response, already forming, but Yohji. Ran paused. Yohji was staring at that beer bottle a bit too closely, and there was something like a smile teasing at the corners of his mouth. Ran felt a helpless smile forming in return.

"I can take care of myself," he muttered, standard phrasing and Yohji was looking at him something like hopefully, something like devilishly. Or anyway, the look made him shiver, once, and glance down.

"I'll get the plates," said Aya-chan, brightly, and scraped back her chair to rise from the table and join Ran at the counter by the stove. She gently touched his arm, looked up at him with shining eyes. "It's so good to see you well again, Oniichan," she said.

Ran smiled down at her. "I am well. For the first time in a while." And he was talking about Yohji, held onto the secret tightly like some treasured thing even while smiling down at his sister. But she was smiling as well, a look almost of pride in her eyes, and it was okay.

*******

They ate quickly. Omi and Aya-chan seemed nervous, or secretive, and something about their giggling put Ran's stomach on edge. His appetite had not been the best lately, in any case. He finished very little of the meal, unable to even though he caught every worried look Yohji shot his way. It felt almost like letting him down.

Which was silly, he told himself. Still finishing everything he could, remembering somewhat wistfully the icecream Yohji had bought.

He was poking idly at the cooling noodles when Aya announced that she and Omi were going to watch some television before bed. Yohji looked pleased, almost relieved but something wouldn't let Ran go upstairs just yet. Without really thinking about it he murmured, "I think I will, too," and it almost confirmed a suspicion when the two looked disappointed.

"Are you sure, Ran-chan?" said Aya. "You're still weak, you shouldn't get over-tired. Should, he, Yohji?"

"No," said Yohji, holding Ran's gaze. "I think he should definitely get to bed."

Ran looked at Yohji for a moment, then back to his sister. Bit his lip. Knew they would want to watch some movie about romance and highschool intrigue, nothing he'd the patience for. "I am tired," he began. He trusted Omi. He did.

"Go on up," said Yohji. "I'll clear the dishes and then bring you some tea, if you like."

Yohji's voice was tender, somehow, yielding, and Ran could only see Yohji smiling beneath him. He glanced down, nodded. "I would like some tea," he murmured, watching Aya-chan and Omi exchange a curious glance from beneath his fringe.

"I'll be up in a minute," said Yohji, scraping his chair back from the table. He began to clatter around with dishes, cigarette waggling in the corner of his mouth, while Omi helped him - with far less fuss and noise.

Aya-chan came over to him and wrapped her arms around him. She'd grown, he realised, startled. When did that happen? How long was it since he'd paid attention when she hugged him like this? Before Schion? How long...

He kissed the top of her head, allowed himself a moment to breathe in the scent, the living breathing presence of her.

"Sleep well, Ran-chan," she whispered. "You'll be well in no time."

She elbowed Yohji playfully out of the way to get a glass of water at the sink, and skipped off to watch TV, Omi following right behind, mumbling something about a blanket.

"Go on," said Yohji with a gentle smile, rolling his sleeves up to his elbows ready to start washing up. "I'll be right up."

"Alright," Ran said quietly in response. Yohji's smile widened, and he turned to the sink with a very satisfied cast to his broad shoulders. Ran smiled to himself, feeling a trace of a similar contentment. "And Yohji?"

"Yeah?" he asked without turning around.

"Bring the icecream."

Yohji chuckled.

"I'll be right up," Yohji said with a wicked look in his eyes. Ran smiled softly to himself, knowing he looked a bit smug as he turned very slowly toward the stairs.

"Hurry, then," he said calmly, and Yohji muffled something, probably a curse, behind him.

"Quick as I can manage, love, promise."

Yohji went back to the dishes, smiling to himself at the little snort the pet name had elicited. A reminder that for all that he may be a little bewildered by the sudden turn their relationship had taken, there was still the old, iron-spined Ran behind the shy smiles and seductive looks.

Which just made it all the hotter, Yohji thought.

He finished the dishes swiftly, and yelled goodnight to Omi and Aya-chan before he ran up the stairs, two at a time.

Omi looked with a frown in the direction of the kitchen. "I can't believe Yohji-kun's gone to bed so early," he said. "It's not like him at all."

"No," said Aya, with a shy half-smile. "But I'm not complaining."


	9. Chapter 9

### Chapter 9

Yohji surveyed his reflection critically in his wardrobe mirror. Snug jeans; stylish boots that gave him an extra inch in height; soft black cashmere sweater. Perfect. He ran his fingers through his hair, still slightly damp from the shower, and grinned at himself.

He couldn't believe he was going on a date with Ran. He couldn't believe he was _with_ Ran.

On the other hand, he could remember those shy - and not so shy - kisses, the slick heat of Ran's mouth around his cock, warm breath on his neck...

Yohji adjusted his jeans with a cough, and tried to think of other things. There was a long way to go until he could drag Ran back to his bed again. Yohji had insisted on the full night out: dinner, a movie, possibly even a club if Ran felt up to it. And there was a good chance he would. In the week since they'd first fallen into bed together he'd been healing rapidly.

Yohji slung on his jacket and patted pockets. Keys, cigarettes, lighter, wallet.

He headed for Ran's room, whistling happily to himself all the way.

Ran was staring at himself in the mirror. He was not panicking, not over this.

He was actually the only person in the Koneko without a full-length mirror, and so he only knew for certain that his hair looked fine. He closed his eyes, and very deliberately did not groan in frustration.

At least he already knew that Yohji liked him in these jeans. They were comfortable, his oldest pair, still tight but thin with age and wearing through in spots. More importantly, they didn't press into his still-healing side.

And he knew that Yohji liked this shirt, or anyway he'd seemed careful about not damaging it while ripping it off. Not much to go on, really. Ran bit his lip, and looked around his bedroom a little helplessly. God, he wished he'd dated more in High School.

"You look gorgeous." Yohji lounged in Ran's doorway, leaning against the frame with one long leg crossed over the other, arms folded across his chest. "We'd better go quick or we'll be late. I'm not sure how long I can be responsible for my actions with you looking like that and standing so very close to the bed."

Ran felt himself blushing and looked down quickly, not wanting to see it even just in the tiny mirror. He waited for Yohji to laugh, but he just stepped further into the room and took Ran's hand. Ran glanced up through his fringe, tossed his head a little so he could meet Yohji's eyes.

And Yohji looked incredible. Ran knew he was staring, couldn't stop, and he might've still been worried about how he looked but in the sudden rise of lust he couldn't tell. "We're going on this date," he said firmly, more to himself than anything. Yohji just smiled.

Ken's voice drifted up the stairs. "I'm going to the store! You want anything?"

"Ice cream," Yohji replied, without taking his eyes off Ran. "And chocolate. Dark chocolate." He ran his tongue slowly over his lips, turning Ran's spine to jelly.

"Strawberries," Ran whispered, eyes fixed on Yohji's mouth, his own tongue unconsciously echoing the gesture. His hands strayed, Yohji's eyes darkened, and Ran began to think they wouldn't leave after all.

"What was that last?" Ken said, voice much closer now, and Ran stumbled back as the footballer caught himself on the doorframe and peered inside.

"Strawberries," Ran said, his voice maybe a little breathy. Yohji never looked at Ken, and Ran couldn't bring himself to break that gaze. He could see Ken staring at them out of the corner of his eye, first one and then the other.

"Umkay, whatever," Ken mumbled, and backed out through the door. Ran listened to him clatter down the stairs, still staring at Yohji.

"He'll never find any." Yohji crossed the short distance between them and brushed Ran's lips with his own, maintaining his lock on Ran's gaze through slitted eyes. "I'm the only one who can give you strawberries, baby."

Ran arched one brow very deliberately, playing with the idea of a smile. "Maybe he's just saving us a trip to the store," he suggested, pressing closer to the heat of Yohji's body. "You're still the only one who can use the strawberries."

"So long as we have that clear." Yohji ran a hand possessively over the curve of Ran's ass, and kissed his neck. "Oh God, if we don't get going soon..."

"The theater's not far," Ran said, thinking out loud. Well, inasmuch as he could think, at the moment. "We have a little time."

Yohji groaned and tugged Ran close, grinding hips as he kissed him. He tasted of toothpaste and smelt of shampoo and shower gel and a faint tang of aftershave that Ran would recognise anywhere.

Ran was lost in it, absolutely, the heat and scent and the electric feel of Yohji licking a broad stripe across his throat. "So we'll miss the previews," Ran murmured, catching Yohji's hair in insistent fingers.

"Oh no you don't," said Yohji, although he wasn't moving away. "I'm gonna make you wait." And he kissed that spot, under Ran's ear, the place that made him boneless and spineless and hopeless and anything Yohji wanted him to be.

He whimpered, spoke quickly to cover the sound. "If this is waiting, then I've got no problem."

"Oh God, you," Yohji murmured, dragging himself away. "Car. Now. You first." And he half shoved Ran out of the door with a light slap to his ass.

Ran smiled to himself all the way down to the car, climbing into the passenger side of Yohji's Super 7 as though they went out every Friday. His smile broadened into a subdued grin at Yohji's look of surprise. "You're taking me on this date, Kudoh," he said quickly. "That means you drive."

Yohji hopped rather flashily into the driver's seat, tossing and catching his keys with a flourish. "My pleasure," he said with a wolfish grin. "I guess I'm paying, too?"

Ran smiled, feeling incredibly smug for some reason. Or pleased, maybe. "Absolutely." And just having fun with it for once. Smiling because Yohji was smiling.

Yohji gave him an appraising look. "You're worth it, I guess," he smirked.

Ran pondered that as Yohji peeled out of the garage, somewhat stumped for a reply. Witty banter had never really been his forte. "Thank you," he said quietly, watching Yohji's smirk soften into a genuine smile.

"You're welcome," said Yohji.

*******

The journey to the restaurant was short, but gave Yohji time to recover something of his composure. He was fairly certain that Ran had no idea just what kind of effect he had on him. If he did he'd probably be a lot more smug about it. Or frightened, possibly. Yohji still hadn't quite worked out how confident his new boyfriend was about things.

Boyfriend. Yohji let the word sit in his head for a while. It was new. And exciting. And just a little ridiculous, because after all they were killers, both of them, they'd seen and done things no normal person would be able to stand. But, ridiculous or not, Yohji wasn't regretting his decision in the slightest. He'd never imagined Ran could be like this. So... normal.

He glanced over at Ran once they'd stopped at a light, and offered him an encouraging smile. Ran looked a little distant, maybe, but still good. Just that same distance he wore whenever facing the outside world. Ran caught him looking, and returned the smile brightly, Yohji suddenly blown away by it. He hadn't expected Ran to look so happy.

"The light's green," Ran said, watching Yohji blink and watching his smile turn into his more usual smirk before he shifted the car back into gear and peeled through the light.

"I noticed Omi was helping Aya-chan with her history homework again," said Yohji by way of conversation. Revelling in normality.

"I meant to talk to you about that," Ran said firmly, straightening a bit in his seat and shifting so that he could watch Yohji's profile. "I think there's something going on between them."

Yohji laughed. "Omi and your little sister? I'm pleased to see you haven't lost your edge of paranoia, Ran-chan. But honestly, if Omi had a death wish we'd have noticed it before now."

Ran moved again in his seat, just a little petulant resettling against the seatback. "There is something going on," he said ominously. "They watched TV together."

"TV, eh?" Yohji snickered. "Dangerous stuff. If I'd known I wouldn't have watched all those game shows with Ken."

Ran slapped Yohji's arm lightly with the back of his hand. "It's different for them," he sighed. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Ow!" Yohji protested, as if the slap had done more than tickle. "How different? Are they the only ones susceptible to the evil TV rays of doom?"

"Yes," Ran said, very grave, his voice low. "The evil television rays of doom." He fought a smile, and waited.

Yohji gave a bark of laughter. "Ran! Was that a joke?"

"No?" Allowed a tiny smile, and watched confusion cloud Yohji's brain. "Maybe?"

"Well," said Yohji, his hand lingering too long on the gear shift, knuckles brushing casually against Ran's knee. "If that's what the evil TV of doom does, I'm getting you on that couch as often as possible."

"I think the evil of TV only works on teenagers," Ran said, trying for grave though he thought he might be smiling. "You'll have to find some other evil. Strawberries, for instance."

"Mmm. Evil strawberries. Well, this place has a good desert menu. You never know your luck." Yohji turned into the restaurant car park, fast enough to skate the tyres in a hiss of gravel. Showing off, as usual.

Ran felt himself sliding in his seat, even with the racing harness. He flailed for a handhold, grabbing Yohji's thigh and clinging as they slid to a stop perfectly within the parking space. Ran loosened his hold to a caress, and very deliberately didn't say anything. "Strawberries and chocolate, I think."

"I thought we were stopping for dinner," said Yohji, with a grin that bordered on a leer. "Not sex."

"There's something to be said for waiting, I think," Ran said archly, relaxing into it. "We can just ... anticipate, all evening."

"All evening?" Yohji squeaked, his hand snaking up Ran's thigh. "You're a hard man, Fujimiya Ran."

"And getting harder," he gasped. Yohji grinned an evil grin, and brushed a knuckle over the seam of Ran's jeans.

"So you are." Yohji leaned in and ran his tongue over the curve of Ran's ear.

"Don't we have a reservation?" Ran said weakly, without conviction. Yohji moved as if to answer, and Ran flailed a hand up to hold him in place, fingers tangling in Yohji's hair.

"Oh God," Yohji murmured, kissing Ran's neck and jaw and finally settling on his mouth. Kneading the hard ridge in Ran's jeans with strong, skilled fingers.  
Ran whimpered, moving into the press of Yohji's fingers. He was about to come in a rather conspicuous car in the parking lot of a very popular restaurant, and somehow he didn't care.

Yohji's fingers dealt deftly with the zipper of his pants and slipped inside, massaging his impossibly hard cock and slipping his tongue in and around Ran's mouth in the same irresistible rhythm. After a while he pulled back and, keeping his eyes on Ran's all the while, slid down his body to take his cock between his lips.

"Oh my God," Ran stuttered in a broken breath and Yohji's tongue velvet-soft pressing flat against his swollen foreskin, the tip thrusting inside. "Yohji, please." The arclights were bright in his eyes, they were completely exposed with just the light window-tinting between them and discovery, and Yohji did something his tongue fluttering or rippling and Ran gasped for air.

Yohji mumbled something and his fist wrapped around the root of Ran's cock and squeezed gently, started to move.

They could be seen. Found. Discovered.

At any minute.

Didn't Yohji care?

Didn't he...

A couple walked past the rear window, a man's low voice and a woman's high heels clicking on the pavement. Ran shuddered, and let his head fall back against the window, and came.

Yohji kept sucking, rubbing Ran's thighs in soothing circles, half an eye on the window as he licked his lover clean. He looked up at Ran, smirking, eyes glittering through his bangs. "Wow."

"Yeah," Ran murmured, looking down at Yohji with something close to affection, slowly untangling his fingers from Yohji's hair. He cleared his throat. "Are you?"

"Me? I'm fine. Horny as fuck and... man. That was close, you know, if she'd looked this way..."

"Have you ever, I mean." Ran looked down, knew he was blushing. "Have you ever done anything like this? And have you ever been caught?" He was blushing, but he couldn't hide the curiosity and lust in his voice.

"Never. I mean, never done anything like... maybe the odd fumble in an alley round the back of a club, but..." Yohji cupped Ran's chin, gently raised his face and smiled at him. "You're full of fucking surprises, you know that?"

"I, I'm glad," Ran said hesitantly. "Really? Only with me?" And he was smiling, an oddly pleased, open smile.

"Only you. So, are you hungry?"

"Yes, right, for dinner." Ran sat back against the seatback, tilted his head lazily to glance over at the restaurant. He really was hungry. "We can make out later? At the theater?" he asked hopefully.

"God, Ran..." and Yohji kissed him, hard, fingers clutching tight at his hair. "Yes. Yes, I absolutely promise we can make out wherever you want. Just... food first, okay? I don't want you passing out on me later."

Ran tugged against Yohji's fingers, just to feel the strength of his hold. "Getting out of the car," he breathed, slipping one hand to the back of Yohji's neck when the taller man would've moved. "This minute. Getting."

"Oh God," Yohji whimpered, turning his head to kiss Ran's arm, squirming as if to escape but not actually getting away. "At this rate we're gonna starve... Right. I'm going to kiss you once more, that's it. That's all you're getting until we've eaten. Okay? Deal?"

"Okay," Ran repeated, voice low in his throat. "One kiss."

"Just... one... kiss..."

Then there were soft lips and wet tongue, and Yohji was well and truly lost.

*******

Ran stared up at the movie marquee, standing maybe a little bit too close to Yohji and feeling a curl of contentment in his belly.

"What about a comedy?" Yohji was saying, and Ran shifted his gaze to look at the other man. His profile was strong, maybe too pretty but there was strength there, and his own kind of honor. Ran smiled, and bumped Yohji's shoulder with his own.

"There's an action film," he suggested, planning more toward types of distraction than for something he actually wanted to see. The explosions of an action movie would cover a multitude of sins.

"Hmmm... it's been out for a while." Yohji's hand snuck by Ran's; fingers meshed together. "Should be fairly empty. Um, short line, I mean." He gave Ran's hand a squeeze.

Ran wiggled his fingers in Yohji's grip, just wanting to feel them there. He smiled again. "Shorter line sounds good. Do we want popcorn?"

"Of course. My treat. I'm not a cheap date, you know." His thumb rubbed gently over Ran's. "You get the whole deal."

Ran paused for a moment, looking down at their joined hands. "I am glad to be your date, Kudoh Yohji." His voice was almost inaudible beneath the hum of the busy theater, but Yohji's hand tightened around his. Ran smiled.

Yohji swallowed hard. Suddenly it was near-impossible to concentrate on anything other than the warmth of Ran's hand and the excited fluttering of his own stomach.

Ran narrowed his eyes, tugged sharply on Yohji's hand to recapture his attention. "And pocky," he said quickly, willing Yohji to stay with him. Couldn't manage this on his own. "Popcorn and pocky."

"Whatever you want. Oh, and coke. You'll need to stay awake, because I'm gonna..." and he leaned in, lips soft against Ran's ear, "... stroke you and squeeze you and love you until you come in your pants right there in the back row. And then I might just want to do it all again."

Ran's mouth suddenly felt dry, and he wet his lips with a quick tongue. "Maybe we don't need candy," he murmured. "There's a line. We should probably, ah, find those seats, don't you think?"

Yohji grinned and steered him to the line with a hand flat in the small of his back. "You're probably right."

"Of course I'm right," Ran snarked as they fell into line, feeling even easier, a little sexy, secure with Yohji touching him in a way he wouldn't be alone.

Yohji didn't say anything as the line moved forward, just pressed a kiss to the top of Ran's head in a way that was more affectionate than anything else. Ran wrapped his arms around himself, around the warm feeling in his chest. He was smiling, and Yohji asked for the two tickets with an incredibly smug grin.

They progressed from the ticket counter to the line for their screen, pausing for snacks on the way. Ran smiled to note that Yohji got the biggest box of pocky, a ton of popcorn and the hugest coke available. He couldn't help but wonder if Yohji treated all his dates this way, or whether he was still on a mission to feed Ran up.

The choice of movie turned out to be a good one. The room was barely a quarter full and the back three rows totally empty.

"Good tactics," Yohji noted. "Most girls want the romantic comedy, not the action flick. Where d'you want? Middle? Far end by the wall?"

"Corner in the back," Ran said decisively, his tactician's mind working overtime. He started up the center aisle, pulling Yohji after him by one hand. "We'll have cover on two sides, and no one likes to see a movie from such an angle."

Yohji grinned. Trust Ran to tackle a date like a mission. But he had to admit, his strategy was as good as any he could have dreamed up himself.

Once safely installed in their chosen seats, Yohji surveyed the room. Their nearest neighbours were a clutch of students, by the looks of things, all male and already fairly boisterous. A few couples were dotted around, but none close enough to-

"What's the matter, Yohji?" came Ran's soft barritone, voice carrying the hint of a smile. "Nervous?"

"Not at all. Just... checking."

Ran tossed a quick glance around the theater, noting much the same layout and drawing nearly the same conclusions. He smiled at Yohji nervously. "Ah," he said. "Checking." He paused for a beat, glancing around. "How does it look," he whispered, ducking in close to Yohji's shoulder, maybe a little afraid of being overheard.

"Looks good," Yohji murmured, slipping an arm smoothly around Ran's shoulder and tugging him closer still. He turned his head and met a violet gaze that took his breath away. So much heat and want and daring in those beautiful eyes. His lips were on Ran's in a heartbeat, warm and spine-tinglingly good.

Yohji was nestling his tongue in Ran's mouth, about to tug him into his lap and slide a hand inside his shirt, anxious for the feel of smooth skin under his fingers, when there was a hiss and a giggle and Ran tensed to steel in his arms.

The teenaged couple zeroed in on the opposite corner, passing them quickly and with several more giggles, but Ran shifted a little, more firmly in his own seat.

"Hey," said Yohji softly, feeling the loss as Ran melted away from him. "It's okay."

Ran licked his lips, glancing down, to the other couple, to the first commercials on the screen. "Can we, I mean, I'm sorry," he said miserably, catching Yohji's eyes with a sudden fit of daring. "Maybe after popcorn?"

"Sure, of course. Here." Yohji passed Ran the far-too-big bucket of popcorn with a reassuring smile. "Whatever you want."

Ran relaxed, just a bit at first, the popcorn dry in his mouth. But Yohji just kept smiling at him, and stealing handfuls of popcorn as the THX soundcheck blared through the theater and the first real previews began. By the time the actual movie appeared onscreen, he was leaning in the warm circle of Yohji's arm, munching happily and thinking that everything might turn out okay. Bit by bit his eyes stopped flickering to the audience, comforted by the odd sense of normalcy that Yohji's presence seemed to breed in him since... Yohji looked so at home: lounging in his seat, one arm behind his head, fiddling with his hair, eyes fixed on the screen except for the odd moments he caught Ran's gaze and smiled a knowing sort of smile.

"He's been in something on TV," Yohji whispered, helping himself to more pocky. "Guy with the cool jacket. What was it?"

The words echoed, meaningless, in Ran's head as he watched Yohji's damp, agile tongue swirling around the slender stick in his mouth, caressing the chocolate until it melted, darting out to catch a sticky droplet from his lower lip.

"I ..." Ran shot a panicked glance toward the screen, watching the minor character give the hero some cryptic warning. "Something American, I think." Glanced back in time to catch the tail-end of Yohji's knowing smirk.

"Yeah. I think a detective series, maybe." Yohji closed his lips around the pocky and sucked as he slowly pulled it out of his mouth. Then pushed it in again...

"Yeah," Ran agreed, sounding slightly dazed. "Detectives, with the ..." He grabbed another handful of popcorn just in time to smother a whimper.

"Dog?" Yohji left the pocky dangling like a cigarette from the corner of his mouth while reached for the coke.

"Yes, dog," Ran repeated blankly. He shook his head rapidly, as if to clear it. "The blind police officer, maybe?" Only wondering now what they'd been talking about.

"Yeah. Makes you wonder who picked out the jacket for him." Ran could see, no, imagine the tip of Yohji's tongue caressing the end of the straw as he sucked coke through it, and Yohji's arm curled in a little around his shoulder, fingertips brushing the soft skin under one ear.

"The dog?" Ran snarked, leaning a little closer into Yohji's warmth.

"Yeah." Yohji's eyes glittered at him, undisguised lust. "The dog."

The pocky went back into his mouth, and he crunched.

"We were ..." Ran felt his eyes glazing over, or maybe that was a figure of speech but he leaned up a little and grabbed Yohji's neck and pulled him down to lick the chocolate from white teeth.

Yohji chuckled, triumph in the way he threaded his long fingers through Ran's hair to hold him there while he kissed him, tongues tangling, breath warm against his cheek.

Ran wriggled a bit closer, the arm of the seat jabbing him in the side every time he tried to deepen their kiss. Yohji was twisted in a position that looked incredibly bad for his back, but his tongue finally slipped into Ran's mouth as the hero's brother or something died, and the sudden swell of music covered Ran's helpless moan.

"C'mere," Yohji murmured, tugging Ran towards him. "In my lap."

Yohji pulled a bit too suddenly at one arm, and Ran sprawled over into his lap. "The seat arm," he gasped, said object having lodged itself in one lung.

"Oops, sorry... you alright?" Yohji's hand found the almost-healed wound in Ran's side, slipped under his sweater to whisper across the scar. "God, did I hurt you?"

"I'm alright," Ran managed, smiling helplessly in the sudden warmth of Yohji's concern. "But maybe we should move this?"

"Oh, right." Yohji gave a foolish kind of smile. "Yeah. Go ahead." But as soon as Ran squirmed around in his lap, Yohji couldn't help himself, tugging him down to kiss, hand sliding up the ridges of his spine, flattening over smooth, shifting muscle.

Ran finally wriggled himself into a comfortable position, straddling Yohji's lap with his erection pressed against Yohji's belly. They were being so quiet, Yohji whimpering into Ran's mouth; Ran clutched at Yohji's hair, grinding against him now, too desperate for having come in the car just a couple of hours ago.

"Oh God," Yohji moaned. "I can't... touch me, Ran, my balls are about ready to explode, you're so..."

"Me too," Ran panted. "Or, you too. Just," he whimpered, anything coherent lost in the skin of Yohji's neck and Ran gave up talking to lick the taut tendon down to Yohji's shoulder.

Yohji shuddered, took Ran's hand and guided it between them as if he thought Ran might have forgotten where to look. And Ran let him, his breath hot against Yohji's neck as his fingers fumbled with button and zip and finally, oh God, finally, Ran touched his cock.

Yohji shuddered at the feel, Ran's fingers a little cold from the air conditioned theater, a delicate searching tracery and then a sudden firm grip near the root. Ran was kissing Yohji's neck, mouthing at it without the strength to move, his spare hand scrabbling at the front of Yohji's shirt.

"Man," purred Yohji. "I never thought you'd be so... naughty." He was thrusting a little, just grinding his cock against Ran's rapidly warming palm.

"Naughty?" Ran panted, trying for playful. "Not adventurous, or sexy?" He added a sort of twist on the next upward stroke, smiled when Yohji bucked beneath him.

"All that too. And more. Much more." Yohji's eyes fluttered shut every time Ran did the twisting thing, it felt so good, so, fucking, good. And the fact that they were more or less in public... Yohji had enjoyed his fair share of groping in the back row of the movies before now, but never like this, never so blatant and never _Ran_. He'd idly wondered from time to time, what Ran's kink would be. Back in the old days, before Aya-chan awoke, mostly. He'd decided on S&amp;M, because Aya seemed to be pain's constant companion, but he was pleased it wasn't so. Not his cup of tea, really, life hurt quite enough, but this...

Ran dipped to kiss him and Yohji barely stuttered out "I'm coming" in time. Hot liquid on Ran's fingers, sticky, and he worked his hand free desperate now he hitched himself a little closer to Yohji, close as he could get with both of them in the seat, a whine escaping his throat and he licked his hand clean just to see the look on Yohji's face. An explosion on the screen lit them orange, and Ran leaned in, lips just parted and breathing in gasps.

"Wish I could fuck you here," Yohji murmured, still half-elsewhere from coming so hard.

"We'd need a longer movie," Ran whispered, grinning (giddy) with his mouth pressed to Yohji's neck. "One of those American war epics," he said into Yohji's ear, voice low and rough.

Yohji giggled into Ran's hair. "That would do it. Loads of bangs, and oh, love, I can't wait to have you, to..." He bit his lip, stopping himself. Not wanting to push, not wanting to frighten Ran off just when he was getting so bold.

"I ..." The words wouldn't come. Ran shook his head, pressing an apologetic kiss to Yohji's shoulder. "I want to," he whispered. Yohji's grip tightened, and it was comforting to be held. Took a steadying breath, and leaned back against the support of Yohji's arms to meet his lover's eyes. "We will," he promised, feeling something like excitement lick at the base of his spine.

"When you're ready." Yohji caught the heat in Ran's eyes and couldn't help but smile. He felt so damn lucky. Almost unnervingly lucky.

He pressed the back of his hand against the ridge of stiff flesh in Ran's jeans, encouraging Ran to ride up against him, still holding his gaze. Violet eyes shadowed beneath messy scarlet hair, lips slightly parted, trace of a smile just barely dimpling one cheek. "That good?"

"Very," Ran husked, head dropping forward in a helpless motion. "Yohji, please."

"Wish I could suck you again," Yohji breathed in his ear, catching Ran's forehead on his shoulder. "When we get home I'm going to lick you til you beg. I'm going to-" Ran's zip came down and Yohji's hand slipped inside, but instead of pulling his cock out into the air he pressed it hard against his belly. "Make you come in your pants right here."

Ran rasped a breath, his back arching and his knees unsteady in the chair, and suddenly he heard a woman moan, very loud. Like it was all around him, and Yohji staring wide-eyed behind him and Ran twisted his head around to stare at the third act sex scene playing out between hero and femme fatale.

"Yohji!" Ran was laughing, couldn't help it but Yohji's fingers were still hot and strong and he was grinning now.

"Sorry. Don't worry, not as pretty as you." Yohji swallowed his laughter in a kiss, tongue plunging deep. "Not as hot, either. Or as hard, or as..."

"Pretty?" Ran objected. "I thought we decided I was naughty."

"How about pretty damn naughty?" Yohji's hand found Ran's rhythm, met the bucking of his hips as he nibbled on Ran's ear.

"I could go for that," Ran laughed, and he looked down at Yohji smiling and came like a swift concussion.

"Oh God," Yohji groaned, his own cock twitching in sympathy even though he'd come just a few moments before. So sexy the way Ran just... "Urgh." He tugged Ran close and held him through the last few shudders of hips and shoulders. Cradled his head and kissed his neck. "Sticky," he said, eventually.

"And we smell," Ran whispered, his voice feeling as husked as if he'd screamed. At least ... "I didn't scream, did I?" He sat up a little, tension creeping back in. Yohji's hands still relaxed, easy and warm holding his waist.

"Hardly at all," said Yohji, not letting go, thumbs massaging smooth circles just under his sweater. "No-one looked," he added, probably in response to the beat of panic that Ran knew must have shown on his face even in the gloom. "I've got some tissues somewhere. Get us decent enough to get to the bathroom on the way out." He kissed Ran's neck, tugging him in close, cradling his head gently in his palm, fingers feathering through his hair.

Ran smiled, a curve of lips pressed against Yohji's shoulder, a sort of gentle affection rising from his slowly calming nerves. "You always were good at improvisation," he snickered.

"It's a gift." Yohji balanced Ran with one hand, delving into a pocket for a wad of tissue with the other. He kissed Ran's ear, nuzzled the soft skin just behind it. "Here. You want me to do it or...?"

"I think I should," Ran said quickly, looking down. "We have to leave, soon. And."

"What? Frightened I'll get you all worked up again?" smirked Yohji, passing a clump of tissues to Ran before he got busy himself. "The movie's not over yet, after all."

"But not enough time for getting worked up. Again," Ran muttered, swiping absently at the sticky mess. He paused, glanced up at Yohji. "We could get dessert, and take it home. Something to go with those strawberries you keep promising."

"Oh, God, yes," said Yohji. "Now, be a good boy and sit in your own seat until the credits roll."

“Only if you promise to do the same,” Ran said, very very seriously, sliding back into his own chair.

“I have to promise?” Yohji whined. “But what if the ending’s sad, and we have to snuggle?”

Any reply Ran might’ve made was cut off by a sudden fall of near-complete darkness, and a swell of violins. They both glanced to the screen, where the credits were rolling.

“Not an issue, then,” Ran said dryly.

“Grocery store?” Yohji asked hopefully, already standing, his hand out to help Ran to his feet. Ran just smiled.

“Grocery store,” he confirmed, and took Yohji’s hand.


	10. Chapter 10

### Chapter 10

Ran budged the door open with his shoulder, stumbling into the kitchen with more bags than he should've been carrying. "Are you certain we need all of this?" he muttered rebelliously, settling the bags onto the counter with a series of unsettling clinks.

"Oh yes." Yohji put a steady hand on Ran's shoulder, frowning when Ran winced, shrugging the over-worked muscle away. "See, we need this," he pulled out a bottle of champagne and set it to one side; "to celebrate..."

"What are we celebrating?" A bright voice called from the next room, and Ran winced.

"Big sale at the shop, Aya-chan!" Yohji called unconvincingly, still smiling a bit too wickedly for Ran's peace of mind.

"Why aren't you in bed?" Ran shot back. "It's a school night, remember!"

He watched as Yohji carried on unloading the bags: bananas, ice-cream, candles, and what on earth-

"Yotan!" He hissed, grabbing Yohji's wrist before he pulled the large plastic box any further into the cold light of the kitchen. "When did you, what-"

"While you were choosing the fruit," said Yohji with an unrepentant grin. "It's a present."

Ran stared at him, speechless.

"Don't you like it?" Yohji's lips were suddenly close, brushing softly against Ran's neck. "I remembered the batteries too. It has six speeds and a pulsate setting."

"But I haven't, we haven't even-"

"What's in the bag?" Aya asked, a little too brightly, coming into the kitchen with Omi following a few steps behind.

Ran let Yohji field the question, losing track of the conversation as he fixed Omi and Aya with one of his best glowers.

"Ice cream," said Yohji smoothly, whisking out a litre of choc-chip and waving it under Aya's nose. "For you."

"You should be in bed," Ran said. "It's a school night."

"It's Friday," she returned quickly, snatching the icecream from Yohji. "And it's only ten o'clock."

Ran stepped back, flustered, and Aya dropped into a chair at the kitchen table with a decidedly smug air about her. "It's Friday?" Ran hissed at Yohji, who shrugged helplessly as Omi joined Aya at the table with two spoons.

"Ken called," said Aya, her voice indistinct around a spoonful of ice cream. "Said he'd be late. And Manx dropped by-"

"She'll be stopping by tomorrow," said Omi, quickly, the big eyes catching Ran's for a meaningful instant, serious. "She wanted to see us together."

"Right," Ran said with a brisk nod.

Yohji's heart sank a little. It was always there, after all. That evening he'd almost, not quite but almost felt normal. Going out with Ran, having dinner and talking about normal things, making out in the back of a normal movie, sneaking home still buzzed with lust and warm feelings he hadn't entertained for so long, and yet.

Always there. The killing and the blood, and he'd done those things with Ran for what felt like half his life.

So easy, these past few days, to pretend it didn't happen, to pretend that the scars and wounds weren't real, that what happened between him and Ran between the sheets was all that really mattered.

"I'm going upstairs," he said, pulling the bottle of scotch out of the carrier bag without even thinking about it. "Hey, Omi, you can take the early shift with Ken, can't you?"

"Yeah, sure, Yohji," Omi said agreeably, eyes following the lanky form up the kitchen stairs. "What's wrong with him?" he asked, of no one in particular, looking to Aya with palpable confusion.

"He was in a good mood earlier," she shrugged, and both looked to Ran.

"I'll go check on him," Ran said slowly, looking from his sister to Omi for approval, hesitating when it appeared easily.

"That's a good idea," Aya enthused, while Omi merely nodded. "He's a lot happier around you, anyway."

"Is he?" Ran sat slowly at the table, staring at Aya, a little lost, a little too close to hopeful.

"Yeah," she smiled, perhaps oblivious to what she implied, perhaps meaning every word of it. Ran swallowed. "He really is, big brother." Aya wrinkled her nose at him. "So go on, then."

Ran pushed himself up, still staring down at her uncertainly. He glanced to the stairs, and his expression cleared. "Don't stay up too late," he reminded them absently, grabbing one of the paper sacks and heading for the stairs.

Yohji was sitting on the edge of the bed, eyes cast down, dangling the bottle between his knees, swinging back and forth. He looked up as Ran approached, eyes big and sad behind the sunglasses.

"Yohji?" Ran hesitated, shivered in a sudden draft that swept down the hallway from the window that didn't shut properly.

"Sorry," Yohji said. "Lost the enthusiasm for playing games, I guess."

Ran's brow wrinkled to a frown; he clutched the bag a little tighter in his hand, hesitating in the doorway.

"You coming in?" Yohji waved the bottle vaguely in his direction.

Ran shrugged, glancing down. "If you want me to," he said softly.

Yohji looked up at him, eyes swimming with familiar hurt, but his expression immediately softened as he took in Ran's uncertainty. Yohji had a shudder of a thought that for all that Ran had changed these past few days, he could change back just as quick. And it was already too late. Yohji wanted this, needed it, couldn't bear the thought that Ran might go back to being Aya and not want...

"Fuck, I'm sorry," he said. "Please. Come here."

Ran let the bag drop to the floor, walked quickly to the bed and he shouldn't do this, shouldn't need like this but settled into Yohji's open arms like coming home. Curled together on the bed, and he felt safe. "What's wrong?" he asked softly. "You were happy earlier, and ... Did I, was it something I..."

The lanky arm around Ran's waist tightened. "Fuck, no. Not you. Just." His lips dusted crimson hair. "Not you."

Ran relaxed into the embrace, let himself relax. "Is it the mission, then?" he asked, voice very low but at the same time strangely certain. Yohji could be so careless, but then so overprotective. Almost two different people. His arms stole around Yohji's side.

"It's different," Yohji said. "All of a sudden. It's all... different."

Ran swallowed, pulled Yohji a little closer. "Because of me?"

"Yes. Because it matters, that we both come back from it. Because I'd rather be sucking you off in a parking lot than going out and... doing what we do."

Ran bit his lip, pressed his face into Yohji's chest near the curve of one collar-bone, breathed carefully through his nose.

A snicker broke free.

Yohji pulled back to get a clear look at Ran's face. "What's so funny?" But he couldn't supress the hint of an answering smile.

"Sometimes you can be so ... romantic," Ran snarked, laughing openly now. "And then sometimes you can be so ... you'd rather be sucking me off in a parking lot?" The last said a bit incredulously, and Ran pulled free just enough to meet Yohji's eyes, glad to see the humor there.

"We can go back right now and I'll show you how much if you like." Yohji's tongue ran swiftly around his lips. He chuckled at the somewhat glazed expression this produced in Ran's eyes, and gave him a little squeeze. "Let me see, an evening committing unspeakable bloody murderers on Kritiker's orders or spending a happy half hour with your cock in my mouth... hmm... tricky..."

"You have a point," Ran said slowly, grinning, more at the lightened tension than at Yohji's attempted humor. He leaned in a little closer. "I wouldn't mind that demonstration, though."

"Does it have to be a parking lot?" Yohji kissed Ran's chin, nibbled at his lower lip. "What about a club? Or the flower shop?"

"Or, you know," Ran panted, breathing around laughter. "Right now, on the bed, could be nice." He slipped a hand beneath the fabric of Yohji's shirt, caught his shoulders and pulled him into a kiss.

Yohji rolled on top of him a little, mouth soft and wet, tongue slipping swiftly between Ran's lips. Fingers catching in his hair. Breathless.

"Right now?" Yohji asked, making short work of Ran's shirt buttons.

"Yes, right now." Ran paused, carded his fingers through Yohji's hair until Yohji looked up at him, saw the gravity in Ran's eyes. Ran smiled. "I'm ready, Yohji. I'm ready."

"You mean..." Yohji's eyes searched Ran's, his heart pounding. "You're ready for... oh. Ran... oh God. You're sure? I don't want to... you don't have to. You could do me, or... oh God. Really?"

Ran shrugged, and looked down, feeling unaccountably shy. "I've been thinking about it. And ..." Looking up through ragged fringe. "I really think I am, Yohji. I want you to take me."

"Oh God." Yohji brushed Ran's hair back from his face, stroked his cheek with a thumb. "I'll be careful. I won't hurt you. I just want... oh God."

"I know," Ran said, smiling a little at Yohji's concern. "You won't hurt me."

"Never," Yohji whispered, promised, kissing Ran again before leaning over to the drawer in the bedside cabinet.

"And you know what you're doing," Ran said, some of the nervousness creeping back and he just wished Yohji were closer. "So this won't, it will be ..."

"Well, it's been a while." Yohji lay some things on the bed: lube and something blue and plastic. "But we'll work it out as we go along, okay?" And then he must have caught the panic in Ran's eyes because he smiled gently and stroked Ran's hair back from his face. "Nothing you don't want, love. I promise."

"Right," Ran blurted, eyes flicking to the blue - dildo, was that a dildo? "So, if I wanted to stop, you would, you ..."

"Any time, love. Any time you like." And Yohji was kissing him, cradling his skull in one broad hand, mouth moving softly and wetly over Ran's, not giving up until Ran let out a moan.

Ran let himself relax, muscle by muscle until he was pliant in Yohji's arms, pliant and ready and not afraid. Whimpered, needy, when Yohji snaked a hand down his spine. Bit his lip and shifted limbs helpfully as Yohji undressed them both.

"Okay, love," Yohji whispered, when they were both naked, still brushing Ran's mouth with his. "You tell me what feels good and what doesn't, ok? Give me a number, one to ten. Starting about..." Yohji smoothed a hand down Ran's leg and hitched it up a little, hooking it over his hip, opening him up. He ran his fingers lightly over the curve of Ran's buttocks. "This?"

Ran squeaked, paused, cleared his throat. "Um, six?"

Yohji's fingers dipped deeper, between Ran's legs, curling around to tickle his balls. "And this?"

"Seven," Ran breathed, glancing up at Yohji with an unconscious grin.

Yohji licked his ear.

A helpless giggle escaped, and Ran blurted, "Three, three!"

Yohji swallowed down his own laughter and snaked his hand between their bodies to take Ran's cock in a loose grip, stroking his thumb over the head. Feeling warm and tingling and thoroughly enjoying himself. "This?"

Ran moaned, long and low. "That's probably a ten," he said, voice breathy and not very strong, eyes fluttering closed.

Yohji smiled to himself and kept stroking as he gently pushed Ran over onto his back and moved to kneel next to him. Shifted Ran's legs apart and, still stroking, licked the fingers of his other hand and reached in to very, very gently touch Ran behind his balls, sliding back until...

"Eight, maybe?" Ran murmured, eyes very wide.

Yohji raised an eyebrow, kept Ran busy by stroking his cock a little more firmly, a little faster, while he slicked his fingers with lube.

"You're so hard," he murmured, an absent observation, catching Ran's eye at the instant he slipped his finger past initial resistance. "That?"

"I don't know." Ran's brows furrowed, as though he were making a difficult decision and he bit his lip as Yohji wriggled his finger just a little. "A five, I guess."

Yohji paused, backed off a little. "Does it hurt?"

"No." Ran paused. "A little strange, maybe." Yohji's fingers slipped easily a touch deeper, and Ran's mouth fell open. "My legs feel funny," he whispered, breathless with a sort of awe.

Yohji chuckled softly. Knowingly. Kissed Ran's mouth gently before pushing his fingers deeper still. "One to ten?"

"I don't know," Ran said, with an epiphanic air. "I don't, the scale isn't working." Breathless, utterly.

"Good. And..." Yohji's fingers wriggled about, as if they were searching for-

Ran yelped, forgot how to count entirely and pressed down against Yohji's hand with a new-found desperation. "There, there!" he panted, fingers clenched on Yohji's shoulder so tightly they would find a bruise there the next night.

Yohji hissed out a breath, his own cock giving a sound throb at Ran's pleasure. He stroked, gently at first, still working to stretch him. Ran's cock spat out a stream of precome; Yohji coated his fingers from the little puddle and raised them to his lips, making sure Ran was watching.

Yohji's tongue swept against his fingers, tasting Ran and Ran moaned. "That is so ..." And pulled himself up with his grip on Yohji's arm to lick the taste of himself from Yohji's mouth. Yohji took the lick to a kiss, deep, soft, tongues tangling, fingers still buried deep inside Ran's body. Almost ready. Almost...

"Now," Ran demanded, the words muttered into Yohji's throat. "I'm ready, I promise, I'm ready."

"Almost," Yohji said, Kneeling up a little, and Ran yelped as something wet and cold was slicked across his skin, worked inside.

Yohji rolled him onto his back, gently eased his thighs back. "It goes like this," he said, softly. "The minute it hurts, the second it hurts, you tell me. Okay?"

"Okay, okay," Ran gasped, moving against Yohji's fingers and feeling quite odd again, it was almost a new level of sensation, the cold slowly warming and Yohji deeper inside him than before and he could feel him in an entirely different way. "Feels fine, feels good, and --" Mind shattered, rough knuckle scraped, scrape, his fingers closing on Yohji's shoulders and Yohji's worried voice. Blinked. "Oh God. Again."

"Better than," Yohji said, "It gets better than that..."

Ran was bereft; Yohji's fingers slid out of him and he lay gasping like a landed fish and then Yohji's mouth was on his; Yohji's hand was over his on his shoulder, anchoring him there, and something was nudging him, something wet and warm and hard and perfect, pushing, stroking, pushing, edging very, very slowly inside of him.

"You could go faster," he murmured into Yohji's mouth, still a bit too cautious to push back against the growing pressure.

"Could," said Yohji, breathing hard. "Not gonna. Too good. Oh God, Ran, that's so good..."

"Well, good, but," And Ran flexed his hips experimentally, hissing. "Yeah, faster. Faster sounds, mm."

"Impatient," Yohji chided gently. He caught Ran's lower lip between his teeth, nipped then soothed with the tip of his tongue.

He stroked a strand of hair back from Ran's cheek and watched his face as he slid all the way, _all the way_ inside him.

Ran wanted to agree, yes, yes he was impatient, they'd both been waiting for this, but having lost the ability to talk he stared into Yohji's eyes like one blinded by the sun, and he was aware that his mouth was open, and his fingers were clutching at Yohji's shoulders, spasming open, then closed and his toes curled his lungs frozen his back arching irresistably and "Oh God" Yohji's cock inside him, bigger than he'd thought, and so unfamiliar that at this moment nothing else existed.

"Steady, love." Yohji's kisses like warm rain, hair tickling his skin, thighs trembling with the tension of waiting, but waiting nonetheless. "Give yourself time to adjust." His voice trembling, too.

"Please" was suddenly all he could say, the word whispered in a thready voice. "Please, Yohji."

"Okay." Still trembling, but moving, at last, moving. "Oh, God, Ran, you feel so good."

Couldn't answer, he was falling apart, he was falling into himself, falling back against the blankets as his limbs suddenly refused to work. Landed with a squeak, and Yohji heavy atop him.

"Oh God, Ran..." Yohji licked his neck, a stripe of wet fire on his skin. "Is it okay, are you okay, are you, oh God, you're so beautiful like that."

"I'm good," he gasped, sounding slightly amazed by the fact. Found purchase on the sweat-slick skin of Yohji's back and pulled him back down, Yohji's cock sliding inside of him with the movement and his eyes were trying to close.

"Look at me, baby." Yohji kissed his eyelids, contrary as ever. "I want to see you..." His voice deep, thick with lust. His shoulders trembled under Ran's fingers.

"I ..." Nothing more would come. Forced his eyes open and Yohji was smiling down at him like something fierce, something wild, and Yohji's cock brushed against something within him, his prostate some sane corner of his mind tabulated, and Ran's back arched, his head snapped back almost too quickly and "Yohji," gasped through a dry throat, his hands slid up to tangle in Yohji's hair, haul him in close enough to kiss.

Yohji made a strangled noise in the back of his throat, or maybe a sob, and kissed him hungrily. Still holding back, or something, as if he was frightened Ran might break.

"Come _on_," Ran moaned, fingers pulling at Yohji's hair, hips bucking beneath Yohji's though Ran couldn't get leverage to change rhythms. "Please, Yohji."

And then Yohji lost it. With a groan that became a roar he started to fuck, cock swinging smoothly in and out and in again, and out and in, each thrust pumping the air out of Ran's lungs and the thoughts out of his brain and filling him with ache and need.

And later Ran would learn that he'd clawed Yohji's back to ribbons, and that he'd screamed Yohji's name and then passed out, and that Yohji had cleaned them both with a warm wet cloth and snuggled him down into a steadier sleep, but honestly, all that he would remember is this: Yohji over him, and in him, and the overwhelming feeling that somehow this would never end.

*******

Yohji woke to find himself blinking at the winter sun. It streaked through a crack in the blind to paint a brilliant stripe across the bed and land straight in his eyes. He squinted, gave a little moan of complaint, and snuggled into Ran's side, burying his face in the comforting dark of his lover's hair.

"So you're okay, then?" Ran's voice came immediately, as though he'd been laying awake just waiting for Yohji to stir. Yohji swallowed.

"Hey," he said, risking the savage sunlight to pop his head up and check Ran's expression. "You okay?"

Ran blinked. "I asked first."

Yohji couldn't help but smile. He nuzzled Ran's ear and kissed his neck. Somewhere inside he was purring. "Yeah. I'm great. Considering it's some godawful hour of the morning and I haven't had any coffee yet I'm fucking amazing. So. You?" He fixed his gaze on Ran's, searching his eyes for an answer he knew he might not get in words.

Ran smiled, a little shyly. "I'm good."

The grin on Yohji's face grew so broad his jaw ached. "Yeah. You are."

They kissed, soft and lazy and almost immediately a spark of heat between them.

"Hey," Ran pulled away to blurt. "Do you want to do something today?"

"Oh yeah," Yohji purred, tugging him back with one lanky arm around his waist. "I want to fuck you into the middle of next week."

Ran hesitated, squinted his eyes a little in question. "Are we, um, I mean I liked it, but ..."

"Oh God, you're adorable." Yohji ignored the chilly disbelief in Ran's eyes at his assertion and grinned at him. "We're fine. I'm fine. You were incredible. Can we do it again?"

"Yohji!" Ran scooted back a little on the bed, arms crossing over his belly as if in reassurance. "I'm trying to, shit, I'm sore, okay? And I was, I mean ..."

Yohji looked instantly horrified. "Oh, baby, I'm sorry. Shit. Sore, really?" His eyes were huge and green and full of concern. "I meant to go slow, honest, I just... do you want some ice, or-"

Ran tried to maintain the scowl, but a grin tugged irresistably at the coners of his mouth. "It's not that bad," he insisted, grabbing at Yohji's shoulder before he could break for the kitchen freezer. "I just wasn't sure, I mean." He paused, sighed very deliberately, and fixed his eyes on Yohji's. "It's okay that we don't fuck every night, yeah? That's all I was asking."

"Oh, baby, of course!" Yohji flung his arms around a startled Ran in a sudden hug, oofing the breath out of him. "Shit, of course, we don't have to do anything you don't want, ever." He nuzzled into Ran's neck. "We can wait a day. A few days. A month, maybe. And next time I'll be careful, I promise."

Ran bit his lip, but the grin tugged free and he relaxed in Yohji's grip. "Idiot. A month would be too long." And he kissed Yohji's bruised shoulder, carefully, and twined his arms beneath Yohji's to return the hug.

Yohji let out a sigh of relief and held Ran gently, mindful of his injury, nuzzling into Ran's hair. "When you're ready," he whispered. "Not before." And then: "It was amazing, you know."

Ran melted into the touch. "Really?"

"Really," said Yohji, stroking gently, lips whispering into Ran's hair.

Yohji's lips had just met Ran's when there was a door slam and an ear-piercing shriek from the hallway outside, followed by rapid footfalls that could only be Aya's. The rest of them had made moving silently an art form.

"Ra-n!!!" There was giggling, more running. "Save me!"

Ran jerked back so quickly he nearly fell from the bed, face almost comically panicked. "Aya," he whispered harshly, as though Yohji didn't know, tangling himself in the bedsheet as a form of cover.

"Alright," Yohji replied, wanting to laugh but knowing it would end at the pointy end of Ran's katana. "I'll go. Wait here. And, um, put some clothes on, maybe?"

Yohji rolled out of bed and tugged on the jeans he'd been wearing the night before. He mussed his already-mussed hair and crossed to the door. "Hey, what's all the noise about?" He darted a quick look over his shoulder to make sure Ran was out of sight and opened the door a crack. "Aya, what's the matter? Ran didn't get to sleep til late last night, and, by the way, it's an absolutely inhumane hour to be waking up at all."

Ran whispered a quiet "Thank you" that Yohji didn't hear, and scuttled to his far-flung clothing to dress hastily while still covered by the sheet. He could hear Aya's voice in the hall, though not the words, and he stayed low behind the bed until her voice receeded.

"There," said Yohji soothingly, closing the door behind him. "She's going to continue chasing Omi with a hairbrush downstairs. You can slip to your own room and emerge with your reputation intact. Except..." and while Ran struggled with his last sock, Yohji pulled him upright, tugged him close with one hand cupped around his head, and kissed him.

"I ..." Ran sighed, let his forehead drop to Yohji's shoulder and most of the sudden tension left him with a breath. "Thank you," he said clearly.

"No problem." Yohji stroked his hair. "I'll go down, make sure she's occupied so you can shower." He dropped a kiss to the sensitive spot just behind Ran's ear. "I'll even make you breakfast, if you want."

"Sounds good," he said, smile in his voice.

"That's good to hear." Yohji had to stop himself; it was too easy to slide his lips down Ran's neck and then breakfast would be the least of his concerns. Ran deserved better. Ran deserved soup and fresh bread, and the sort of coffee that made the kitchen smell good for days.

With a sigh, Yohji forced himself to step back from Ran and smiled. "God, I love you."

Ran blinked. "I ..." He looked down, something shuttered in his eyes. "I can't, I mean ..." He seemed to stop himself with a resolute breath, then met Yohji's eyes evenly. "Thank you."

Yohji grinned happily and gave a little squeeze to Ran's hand as he dropped it and turned towards the door. "You're welcome. Breakfast in fifteen minutes, okay?"

"Okay," Ran whispered in reply, and watched Yohji leave with an unaccountable, almost silly smile.

*******

Yohji sprawled back in his chair and watched Manx click her heels across the room, noting the shortness of her skirt and the fullness of her breasts with an oddly detatched eye. The only reason he was looking at all was to distract himself from Ran, who was sitting stiffly in all his usual mission-angry glory just across the room. His hair was falling in his eyes but somehow failed to disturb the steely glare he was directing at Manx and the envelope she handed him.

Ran's brows folded ominously, and Yohji felt himself tensing as his lover worked a thumb beneath the envelope's seal.

"That's a beautiful suit, Manx," Yohji murmured, mostly to break the tension. Except she didn't turn away from Ran, and a moment later Ran looked ready to kill and said only "That's Aya's university" in a too-quiet voice.

"Yes," said Manx. "More to the point, Bombay's there too."

"The point being?" Yohji asked with a careless-sounding drawl, moving a little closer to Ran as he spoke.

"Omi's already got us in," said Ran, his eyes swiftly scanning the documents Manx had provided them. "We're both enrolled as grad students." He looked up at Manx, eyes cold and brittle, nothing like the warm, vulnerable Ran who had been in Yohji's bed the night before. This Ran was business-as-usual Abyssinian.

And still Yohji found himself having to adjust his trousers.

"What's this about, Manx? Who's the target?"

"It's a drug dealer. But this isn't an elimination. We're looking for information."

Ran's eyes narrowed.

"I mean it, Abyssinian, no kill. We're looking for someone much higher up the chain."

"So why isn't Omi here," Yohji asked pointedly, offering himself as distraction to Ran's subtle, blank-eyed rage. He could almost feel Ran trembling with it, and wished they were back in that bed, that Manx had never come. "Wouldn't buying be our best bet?"

"I said much higher up the chain," said Manx slowly, as if talking to an imbecile. "And you will be buying. But before you do anything of the sort you need to go undercover, and convincingly undercover at that. That's why we can't use Bombay for this. Omi wouldn't take drugs in a million years, and the dealers we're talking about aren't stupid."

"And Ran would?" Yohji drawled, glaring at Manx over the rims of his Ray Bans.

"Have before," Ran muttered, almost to himself, and Yohji caught Manx's sliver of a triumphant smile. Of course, Yohji thought. It'd be in Ran's files.

"It's always the quiet ones," Manx said, her face nearly straight.

Yohji stared at Ran in astonishment. "For real? I mean, for a mission, or..?"

"That's not important," Manx said impatiently, snatching the mission brief back from Ran and slapping it into Yohji's hands. "You can both do this mission, you're both prepared for this mission, and that's the only thing that matters right now." She glared at both of them for a long, silent moment, then left.

Yohji watched her climb the stairs, heels loud on concrete.

"I wonder what got to her?" Yohji said. He stood up and stretched, walking almost casually over to where Ran sat. He grinned and plonked himself in Ran's lap, winding his arms around Ran's neck.

"Not now, Yohji," Ran muttered, reaching for the mission brief.

Yohji stuck his lower lip out and wiggled a little in Ran's lap, but Ran wasn't relenting. "Oh, I see. You're pissed because Aya's in danger." He didn't get up, but he did move around so they could both see the contents of the envelope.

"Brilliant deduction," Ran said dryly, humor nearly restored with the folder's contents visible.

"Come on," Yohji said, sitting up suddenly. "What do you say we go back upstairs, hm?"

"I said not now." Ran batted irritably at Yohji's hand.

"She'll be alright. Better with us to watch out for her. Come on, Ran." He risked the lightest of kisses to Ran's ear.

Ran melted a little, enough that he didn't take Yohji's head off, and Yohji felt safe to push a little further. "We could grab the last of the mochi, go back to bed ..." he wheedled.

"Yohji," Ran growled, his fingers clenching around the arms of the chair.

"Moocchhiiii," Yohji murmured seductively. "Just til Omi gets back and we have to talk mission. Ken's all settled in the shop, he won't notice." Yohji's tongue darted out to trace the delicate outline of Ran's ear and tease his earring. "Please, baby..."

Ran shivered, a motion that could be traced through his body from contact with Yohji's tongue to his toes, and his eyes slipped shut. "If we have chocolate mochi," he murmured.

"Promise." Yohji brushed his lips across Ran's neck, threaded fingers through silky red hair. "You can have whatever you want, baby. Just name it."

Ran smiled sleepily. "Then I want you."

"Really?" A huge grin spread across Yohji's face. He could hardly believe his luck. To have Ran smiling and wanting in his arms like this when just a few days ago all he could get out of the man was a sullen grunt... "Come on then, upstairs." He helped himself to a lick of Ran's neck. Salty and clean and just a trace of shower gel. "Or I'll strip you right here."

Ran knocked him lightly on the side of the head, more a tap than a blow. "Not funny, Kudoh," Ran growled, but when Yohji looked up he was grinning.

"I would, you know," said Yohji playfully, and suddenly, all of a rush, remembered last night and the parking lot at the restaurant. "And you'd like it."

Ran shivered, shook his head. "Maybe," he granted, slanting a sidelong look toward Yohji's too-smug grin.

"Oh God. Fujimiya Ran, you're going to get me into so much fucking trouble.... And to think..." Yohji paused to kiss Ran's neck, sliding his hand into the gap between Ran's shirt and pants. "... I thought you were going to be the responsible one."

Ran's head fell back onto Yohji's shoulder, his mouth dropping open at the feel of Yohji's hand on his cock, palm rubbing gently at the head. "I could be," he said breathlessly. "But you never liked me responsible."

"I like you all ways," Yohji murmured, clever fingertips making easy work of Ran's zip. "Now, watch that door. Whatever you do don't close your eyes..." And he began to slide slowly down Ran's body, lips slightly parted, tongue ready to swipe at Ran's eager cock.

"Oh, God," Ran said on an exhale, eyelids fluttering closed and he fought to keep them open. "Don't know that I can ..."

"Then you can pay for Omi's therapy if he finds us," Yohji murmured, mostly to himself, and engulfed Ran's cock entirely in his mouth.

"That's not fair!" Ran laughed, arching up into Yohji's mouth. He tangled his hands into Yohji's yellow hair and tugged sharply. "You're not even helping," he murmured.

Yohji let Ran's cock out of his mouth for a second, cradling it in his hand instead, gently rubbing his thumb over the tip. "You want that I should stop?" he said with an infuriatingly sexy grin.

Ran made a frustrated noise, like a choked off growl, and used his grip on Yohji's hair to pull the man closer. "Stop and I'll kill you, Kudoh."

Yohji chuckled and engulfed Ran's cock in his mouth again. Wriggled his tongue around the underside while he dragged his lips slowly up the length of it, kissed the slit and licked away a few drops of precome before plunging down again. His fingers worked their way into the confines of trousers and soft cotton underwear to tease the soft scarlet curls around his balls.

"Yes," Ran hissed, drawing out the final consonant.

Yohji grunted, and sucked, and wriggled his finger further back, ignoring the cramping in his wrist as he found Ran's hole with his fingertip and tickled.

Ran yelped at the contact, pressing back firmly against the tip of Yohji's finger, encouraging its slip inside.

Yohji hummed around Ran's cock and wriggled his finger a little, looking for the magic spot.

"Christ!" Ran yelled, arching up off the couch, the immediate realization and panic on his face almost comical as he stuffed one hand into his mouth and Yohji hummed again to keep himself from laughing. He let a little spit dribble down, working it around with his fingertip, easing the way. Ran was moaning, eyes flicking only rarely to the door as he bit his lower lip and fought the urge to scream.

Yohji backed off so that he held just the head of Ran's cock in his mouth, and lashed the length of it with his tongue. Fucked him with one slick finger, careful of sore skin, responding to rock of Ran's hips, letting him set the pace.

"Fuck my mouth," he murmured, rubbing the tip of his thumb over the slit of Ran's cock in the absence of his tongue. "I can take it."

A pained whine slipped from behind Ran's fist, and his hips flexed irresistibly, the muscles and tendons of stomach and hips standing out in stark relief beneath cream-colored skin, the movement hesitant at first but Yohji hummed approvingly and Ran tightened his hold on Yohji's hair and slid easily into Yohji's throat.

Yohji wrenched down Ran's jeans to bare his arse, kneading muscle and stroking skin, and held himself still for Ran to fuck.

Ran flung out his arm to brace himself against the back of the couch, unwilling to release Yohji's hair and beyond sound now, mouth gaping open to drag in panting breaths and the muscles in his arms strained to hold him down, hold him back because Yohji would let him fuck his mouth, Yohji would just let him go for it but Ran held tight to the back of the couch and slip-slid easy, so easy into Yohji's silken throat, and his head lolled back against the back of the couch and his toes were curling, the feel of the muscles in Yohji's throat sending a curling wave of pleasure through him like heat rising on a shimmer in the summer air, his eyelids fluttering and he was about to come.

Yohji sucked, hard, finger tickling Ran's hole, and Ran shot down his throat, long, hip-wrenching spasms. He pressed his lips firmly together, biting down to stifle a scream.

And it was over, his cock still held safe in Yohji's mouth, his head back against the couch because he couldn't think what to do, just breathe.

He could almost have fallen asleep, but suddenly Yohji was moving, and talking to him - almost shouting - and a fraction later Ran registered the words 'Ken' and 'stairs' and 'get fucking dressed' and panic took over.

It was like time had slowed and Yohji was already dressed and helping him button his pants and had turned innocently away when Ken said, "Hey, what're you guys doing down here? I thought Manx left?"

"We were plotting, Kenken," said Yohji slowly, as if to an idiot, while Ran had to turn away to hide his blush and confusion. "It's a complicated mission. We need to _think_." He tapped this side of his head. "Not something I'd expect you to understand."

"Bite me, Kudoh," Ken muttered, turning back up the stairs. "Omi cooked, if you can keep it in your pants long enough."

"Fuck you, Hidaka!" Yohji yelled up the stairs. "Like I said," with thick sarcasm, "Manx is gone."

Then he turned to Ran and said with a wide grin: "hungry?"

Ran grinned back nervously. "He didn't, I mean, Ken's just being an ass, right?" His breathing was a little fast, and he felt the grin beginning to falter.

"Isn't he always?" Yohji ran a soothing hand through Ran's hair, pulled him in for a kiss. His tongue grazed over Ran's teeth, fingers cradling his skull and damn if he wasn't still rock hard and wanting to fuck Ran through the floor. "You're serious, aren't you, you don't want them to know." Yohji bit down disappointment at the thought.

Ran bit his lip, an old nervous habit. "It's just ... what would they think? What if Aya ..." He sighed, and looked away. "I just got her back, Yohji."

"It's okay." Yohji tugged Ran into his arms and held him for a moment. "You won't lose her. I promise. Besides, they'd never guess in a million years. I'm having enough trouble believing it myself."

"I find it hard to believe, too," Ran sighed, relaxing. "Thanks."

Yohji ran a thumb over Ran's lower lip, along his jaw. "It's amazing. I mean, this, you, me... just."

"Kudoh Yohji, speechless." Ran narrowed his eyes, secure enough to feel playful. "I'm willing to take that as a compliment."

"Oh yes. Most definitely that. You're happy, aren't you? About us?"

Ran, still smiling, nodded. "Very happy, I think."

"Then that's all that matters. We'll face the rest when we come to it. Okay?"

Ran settled into Yohji's lap, unwilling to move just then. "Okay," he said softly. "Sounds like a plan."


	11. Chapter 11

### Chapter 11

The sun was still bright for all that it had started its descent behind the Tokyo skyline, and it felt much too early to be going out. Normally Yohji preferred to retreat to a bar until the world was dark and neon-sparkled before he even contemplated partying.

There was something about walking down the street with his boyfriend (yes, boyfriend, he thought with a stupid smile that wouldn't go away), a cheap bottle of wine in one hand, the other itching to fold itself around Ran's, something that made him feel, well...

Young.

And Kudoh Yohji hadn't felt young for a very, very long time.

"Are you sure about this?" Ran asked, voice small and uncertain, breaking into Yohji's reverie.

"Sure about what?"

Ran's boots scuffed on the sidewalk for a minute. "Everything, I guess," he finally said. "Should we be going to this party? I don't ... I don't know how to act."

"Never been to a college party before, eh? Don't worry, Ran-chan. Just do as I do and you'll be fine."

Ran cast him a half-hearted glare. "Great advice, Kudoh," he muttered. "I can tell, this'll go great."

"This is my element," said Yohji, unruffled by Ran's lack of confidence in him. "Trust me. All you have to do is drink, laugh at all my jokes and whatever you do don't play spin the bottle. Or I might have to kill someone."

Ran thought about that for a moment. "All right, that actually sounds doable. No spin the bottle. Check." They walked quietly for a moment before Ran asked, "What's spin the bottle?"

Yohji shot him a look of disbelief. "You never-" Ran's glare cut his incredulous gloating short. He cleared his throat. "You sit in a circle and spin an empty bottle. Whoever it ends up pointing towards, you kiss them."

Ran snorted. "That's a good one. Really, though, what is it?"

Yohji chuckled. "No, that's it. You'll see. Or ask Aya-chan, if you don't believe me."

Ran still looked doubtful, but didn't object further as they approached a neighborhood where every other house was lit up like christmas and music blaring out of every one.

"Here we are," said Yohji. "Second on the left. One with the banner in the window."

"And you're sure this will maintain our cover?" Ran asked again, still with that horrible feeling in the pit of his stomach like they were all going to die in a fiery explosion or anyway not have a good time. Yohji stopped, slipping an arm far too easily around Ran's shoulder.

"It's worked before. Is it the college thing?" He smirked. "Feeling to old to pass as a student, is that it, Ran-chan?"

Ran shrugged irritably, but not enough to actually dislodge Yohji's arm. "If anything we're young to be in the graduate program," he admitted, and then they were at the front porch of the bannered house and Yohji's answer was just a whisper before he turned smiling to the door.

A girl stood there, smiling perkily at them both (mostly Yohji) and excepted the bottle Yohji handed her with a little giggle. "Good evening, Yohji-san!" She squeaked. "Who's your friend?"

"This is Ran," Yohji said, gliding them both through the door. "Ran, this is Yuki-chan. She's in one of my classes." He treated the girl to a particularly charming smile. "I forget which. I wasn't paying attention to the teacher."

The girl giggled prettily and overlooked Ran's outstretched hand, leading Yohji inside. Ran watched them go, and followed more slowly. "Oh yeah," he repeated to himself softly. "This is gonna go great."

She led them through a hallway to the main room of the apartment; small and full of people, the crowd spilling out into a tiny back yard twinkling with fairy lights and glo-sticks. Yohji scanned the room, allowing Yuki to tug him along as he made an inventory of entrances, exits, potential threats and, without really registering it, the more attractive girls. Ran followed more slowly, watching Yohji watching girls, and felt the old nervous sinking in the pit of his stomach, like the world was shifting beneath him and nothing was certain anymore. Yohji had given him words, but the party was louder than he liked, and brighter, and that girl had led Yohji straight to several bottles of cheap wine lined up on a counter in the kitchen.

Yohji had added their contribution to the line and was talking to the girl. She laughed and passed him a corkscrew, pointed at a stack of plastic glasses at the end of the counter. Her hand lingered on Yohji's arm.

Ran slipped into mission mode, welcome refuge from the dizzying feelings Yohji aroused in him. Safe, cold, logic. Find the target, kill the target, job done.

"Red or white?" said Yohji.

"Red," he muttered in return, edging closer to Yohji as the party became more crowded.

Yohji gave him a sidelong look as he sloshed red wine into a glass for him. "There you go," he said, fingers brushing Ran's as he passed him his drink and lingering far longer than necessary. "Okay?"

Ran shrugged, still paying more attention to the crowd than to Yohji. "It's loud," he muttered, sipping the wine and wrinkling his nose at the sour taste. "And this wine is ..."

"Yeah, I know. It's okay, you don't have to drink it." He leaned in, lips brushing Ran's ear. "I'll give you the good stuff when we get home."

Ran felt his cheeks heating, and he ducked his head to hide the rising color. "Yohji," he hissed.

Yohji chuckled. "It's a pity we have to work, really. This would be much more fun if we didn't."

"But we are working," Ran said repressively, trying to hide a grin behind his glass.

Yohji's grin got a little wider, a little more wicked. "So, this undercover thing." His fingertip traced a pattern on Ran's wrist. "How far we gonna take it?"

"We might have to get high," Ran proposed, very serious. "To hook the dealer."

The corner of Yohji's mouth twitched, but he tried to keep a straight face. He moved a little closer. "There might be other party things we have to do to be convincing."

"Yes," Ran said, still as though at a briefing, though his eyes held a suspicious shine to them. "You had mentioned spin the can."

"That would be," Yohji said, trying to stifle a laugh, and then thought better of it. He risked a kiss instead, just a brief, fleeting press of lips, his fingers tickling Ran's palm.

Ran moved closer, just a bit, not enough that an onlooker would be able to tell, but enough that Yohji felt him respond, and he smiled up at Yohji's look of surprise.

"Let's find the chill-out room," Yohji said, his heart thudding in his chest. "If there's any action, that's where it'll be. And if there isn't, it's likliest to be the darkest, emptiest room in the place."

"Dark," Ran repeated softly, trying for flirtatious. "Is that a prerequisite?"

"No, but it's an advantage." Yohji fought the urge to gather Ran up in his arms and kiss him senseless, clasped his hand firmly and led him back into the hall.

Yohji strode down the hall with practised ease, eyes flicking into a couple of rooms, smiling at a couple of girls, while Ran followed in his wake.

"There," said Ran softly. "Opposite the stairs."

Yohji caught the distant strains of a mellow, jazz-inspired track, and sniffed. The distant, but unmistakable smell of grass. "Bingo," he said. "Just follow me, do what I do."

"That ... you're beginning to worry me," Ran muttered, edging a little closer to Yohji as they entered a dimly-lit room.

"Stick with me and you'll be fine," Yohji whispered, enjoying all this far too much for Ran's liking.

It was very dark in the room, just some low lights in the corners, not enough to see by and Ran had the distinct impression of movement around the perimeter, a sense of twining smoke and writhing bodies and all the sounds that go with it.

"Hmm. There's a space over there," Yohji whispered, and led Ran through the maze of bodies, cushions and shapes that Ran couldn't quite make out. But Yohji's navigation was impeccable. The man was so good in the dark that Aya had wondered more than once if he was half-cat.

Yohji settled them into a single overstuffed chair wedged into a corner, and if Ran found himself in Yohji's lap, at least no one could see them in the shadows, and they had an excellent view of everyone else. Ran shifted a little so that he was curled in the seat, leaning on Yohji with one arm around Yohji's shoulders.

Yohji rested one cheek against Ran's chest, draped an arm over Ran's thighs and closed his eyes. "If we stay here long enough," he whispered, "we should find out who does the gear around here."

Ran found himself nuzzling Yohji's hair, but decided it wouldn't seem out of place here. "Should that take long?" he asked, nosing at the back of Yohji's neck where Yohji was ticklish. "These people seem like they're already on drugs."

Yohji shivered, stifling a giggle. "I hope it lasts for ages," he murmured. He stroked Ran's thigh, squeezing just a little, turned his head and caught him for a kiss. Ran's lips were soft, his mouth was warm and the tip of his tongue flicked at Yohji's teeth. "Best time to sell 'em more," he said. "While they're too wasted to negotiate."

"But we're not wasted," Ran mumured into a kiss, feeling bold and a little uncertain about it, Yohji's hands on his arse, now, and he pulled away to catch his breath.

Yohji chased after him, not letting him stop, not letting his tongue get away. "I'm fuckin' high on something," he muttered, and pulled Ran closer, winding one eartail around his little finger, tugging gently.

Ran followed the tug into another kiss, wrapped his hands around Yohji's shoulders and wriggled a little closer until he could feel how hard Yohji was.

"Be careful," Yohji said, lips curving into a sly smile. "I might lose my concentration on the mission." But his eyes stayed just the slightest fraction open as Ran kissed the arch of his throat.

"I'm trying to be convincing," Ran murmured against Yohji's skin, voice a little too arch to be sincere.

"Well, you're convincing me. You wanna take this a little further?" Yohji's hand hovered at the top of Ran's thigh, thumb just barely brushing the denim below the zip of his jeans.

Ran's breath stuttered, quickened. "I, here? It's ..."

"It's turning you on," said Yohji huskily, trailing his lips roughly along Ran's jaw. "You like it."

Ran's pupils were blown, from the dim lighting, from desire, and he was chewing on his lower lip uncertainly but pressing closer to Yohji, and Yohji tongued his neck and he arched back, eyes closing and the feeling dragged a needy little sound from his throat, not quite a whimper.

"Oh yeah," Yohji tugged on Ran's zipper; it fell easily, and Ran was trembling under his touch, his skin warm under his lips and under his fingertips.

"God, you're so hard," Yohji whispered, lips ghosting over Ran's. He gave a little squeak of surprise when Ran's tongue plunged into his mouth.

Yohji teased the head of Ran's cock, spreading wet over the tip, while Ran panted in his ear, trembling with it.

The door opened wide for a moment, flooding the room with sudden light.

Ran froze in his arms, but didn't move, and Yohji glanced over Ran's shoulder to the door and the three men standing against the light.

"Yohji?" Ran breathed, voice a little high.

"Yeah," said Yohji. It took all his self-control to take his hand out of Ran's pants. His lips brushed Ran's ear. "Act natural. Kiss my neck."

Ran nodded, feeling a little shaky, and lowered his lips to Yohji's neck though they were stiff and he felt a little cold. Yohji was warm against him, and he whispered, "What are they doing?" into the heat of Yohji's neck.

Yohji wrapped his arms around Ran's middle, warm and protective. "Scoping the place out," he whispered, tongue brushing Ran's ear lobe. "There's a couple of kids in the corner look interested... yeah, they're moving in."

"This is more your, um, area of expertise," Ran murmured, shivering as Yohji's tongue found a sensitive place on his neck. "Should we wait?"

"Yeah, just a few more minutes, see what happens." Yohji nuzzled the damp skin of Ran's neck. He fought to keep his eyes open, to keep his hands still. "They're talking. Could be nothing."

"How do we get them to sell us drugs?" Ran asked, voice a little dazed and his hands unsteady against Yohji's back.

"We wait til they've gone." Yohji punctuated his words with soft kisses to Ran's skin. "Then we go ask those guys where they scored. With a bit of luck they'll introduce us. Best be sure what's going on first though. Damn, it's hard to see in this light."

Yohji peered into the gloom, every fibre of his being yearning for Ran, and not in the slightest bit interested in work of any kind. He could make out separate bodies, now. The potential dealers were at the far end of the room, sitting with a group of three kids, two girls and a boy by the looks of it. He couldn't have explained to Ran, exactly, how he knew those two were dealers, and certainly not without giving away things about his own past that were strictly between him and Kritiker. Call it instinct.

He scanned the room, amending his mental map, escape routes, potential sources of danger. But there were just kids, doing what kids do, except... hang on a minute... wasn't that...?

Yohji squinted into the darkness, his hand still in Ran's hair.

Ran caught the shift in Yohji's focus instantly, sliding around in Yohji's lap until he could cover the same field of vision. "What do you see?" he hissed, trying to make out separate shapes in the darker corners of the room.

"I'm not sure, I thought, but-"

"Where?" Ran pressed, straining to see into the dark corner. "It could be important."

"No, it's not the mission, I just thought I saw Omi."

Ran turned to stone on a bitten-off curse, his eyes fixed on something in the corner, rigid in Yohji's lap and poised as if ready to leap.

"What?" said Yohji. "~Is it Omi?"

"It's Aya," Ran growled, and immediately Yohji's arms tightened around his waist like a vice.

"Oh no you don't," Yohji said. "It's a party. She's entitled to be here. More entitled than we are, if you think of it. You make a fuss and you'll have a stroppy teenager on your hands."

Ran was wriggling in his hold, and hopefully it looked to anyone watching like more of a good time. "If she's doing drugs, Yohji ..." Ran hissed a warning.

"Don't be an idiot, Ran. She's probably just... it's probably not even her, I mean are you sure?"

Ran's head whipped around, strands of hair stinging Yohji's cheek, and Ran was glaring at him with killing eyes. "She's my sister." Something in Yohji's expression must've changed, because Ran's eyes softened, just a fraction. "I'm sure."

"Yes," Yohji said. "She's your sister. So you know she wouldn't do anything stupid. Right?"

"But, she, and," Ran sputtered, hands tightening on Yohji's shoulders like a vise.

"She's alright," said Yohji, calmly. "Talk to her at home if you have to. Apart from anything else, you're going to blow our cover if you make a scene. And I'm not just talking about the mission. Okay?"

"But what if something happens to her?" Ran whispered a little helplessly, still staring at the corner of the room with slanting eyes.

"Nothing will happen to her," Yohji whispered back. "Trust her, Ran. Have a little faith. Look, those guys are leaving. Let me handle this."

Ran hesitated for a moment, chewing on his lower lip but absently like he didn't realize he was doing it, and finally turned back to Yohji with something like hope. "Alright," he said, tongue wetting his bitten lip in an absent motion. "I trust you, Yohji."

Yohji held his gaze for long enough to seal the deal, then kissed him, holding him close, reassuring, his heart impossibly full. He slid out from under Ran's long legs and caught the dealers just as they were about to leave the room.

Ran watched him go, watched him sidle up to strange men and start a conversation, and tried to imagine how that would go. 'Hi, I'm an addict, I'd like to buy more drugs ...' Ran shook his head a little at his own thoughts, very well aware why he was the one in the corner and Yohji was the one exchanging money for small packets in the shadow of a doorway.

A growing smile quickly died. Had Aya begun such a conversation? Had she offered a folded wad of money, accepted a paper twist, did she know how to talk to strangers at parties, was she using drugs? What if she was using drugs, what if she was addicted? How was she paying for it, were there any in the shop, what if she'd left drugs lying around the shop?

A hand closed on his wrist, so hard his other arm automatically swung back, ready to punch.

"Hey." A voice from the dark place, that cut through Ran's fear and panic and went straight to his heart. "It's okay. We're done."

"We are?" Ran asked, catching at Yohji's hand, feeling a little lost still. "Did we, um, was the mission successful?"

"Yeah, they're dealing alright. Didn't have what I wanted on them but said they'll get it. Meeting them again tomorrow at Shinjuku station." His fingers folded around Ran's, and squeezed a little. "You want to get out of here? Or," Yohji's grin widened, took on heat, "we could pick up where we left off when we had to go to work."

Ran returned the gentle pressure, but glanced over to where he'd seen Aya-chan. "I don't want to leave her here," he said quietly, stubbornly.

Yohji looked over his shoulder towards the shadows. Hard to tell with so many people and so little light, but he hadn't seen her leave.

"Okay, baby, but don't forget. If you saw her, she could look over and see us. You ready to take that risk?"

"I don't know." Ran closed his eyes, his head tilting forward and all he felt was tired. "She shouldn't find out like this," he said after a long moment.

"Let's go home," Yohji breathed into his ear. "You go ahead and wait outside, I'll finish up here, okay?" His fingers stroked Ran's neck, soft and soothing.

Ran nodded, leaning into the touch. "If you think we can leave," he murmured.

"We can do what we want," said Yohji. "Anything, babe. Anything."

Ran was looking into his eyes, almost as though he were searching for something, and this was the same man who only a few months earlier had run out on a mission to chase that Taketori guy, but then again maybe a month after that he'd insisted on completing a mission while he was so cut up he risked bleeding out, so Yohji really wasn't sure which way this would go but he knew it would be Ran's decision.

Which made it a pretty big fucking deal when Ran smiled a little, and closed his eyes, and said, "Whatever you think, Yohji."

Yohji pulled him closer, and Ran dropped his head to Yohji's shoulder, face burrowing into his neck. Yohji buried his fingers in blood-red hair and kissed Ran's temples.

"Let's go home," he whispered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, that's it for now. We plan to finish this one day, but can't say when.


End file.
